a dozen days of movies & panels & parties. my kind of thing. I've been going since I moved here & have always enjoyd it but this year's was the best yet.
among the memorable films were "Close" & "Chevalier" & "Driving Madeleine."
& a large thank you to my cousin Regina for the super passes she got which allowd us first entry into screenings as well as numerous extras.
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with Regina at the awards gala    |
one of the worst parts of aging is the loss of family & friends.
yesterday I learnd that the painter Mary Ann Begland died at the end of the year just over. I met her 55 years ago at Kent State when we were sparkling with the freshness of youth. she & her then husband hung out with me & my then partner. we bonded immediately. she became one of my favorite conversationalists. unfortunately she & spouse left for Lubbock at end of summer of 1968 for a year. before she left I bought her large & colorful painting "Isadora" which I've enjoyd in my 5 past residences. today it's the first thing I see when I wake.
over the years we saw each other when we cd. I watchd her as single mother raise 2 wonderful boys who became solid men. & we continued to talk. I no longer remember when I startd to call her on the morning of her birthday but it became a tradition we both cherishd.
Mary Ann was the dedicatee of my '70s list poem "Blues." she wrote for my 1996 piece "my first movie." I publishd her art in 2 magazines I edited -- Toucan & Dress. she had a piece in one of my best-known publications -- Six Poems / Seven Prints. & then one of my favorite memories. in 1976 r.j.s. publishd the third & last of my verse journals -- Swimming. I askd Mary Ann to do a cover. I presumed she's do something that wd be printd. instead she paintd by hand 190 covers. I am forever touchd by her generosity in doing this.
I have so many memories of our long friendship -- from her unique sloppy joes to discussions of the latest celebrity suicide.
last may when our hour-long birthday phone chat ended we did what in recent years we had begun to do -- we told each other "I love you."
I met Ned Rorem so long ago we once got drunk together. that nite is mentiond in "Swimmers Out of Water."
altho he was best known for his music my first attraction to Ned was his writing. there was a time when reading his diaries was de rigueur for the gay cognoscenti. when my name appeard in one of them I felt as if I had a brick in my own house of fame.
in an unpublishd journal I wrote:
impressions of Ned Rorem on first meeting
1. looks younger than his years
2. speech defect noticeable but charming
(& based on some 5 minutes of conversation:)
3. appears less arrogant than anticipated
from the beginning he was honest & critical & quite the gossip.
I recall my making him a rueben sandwich & he fixing me scrambled eggs.
if I am a footnote in his life I suspect it wd be that I was the first (& perhaps only?) person to ask him to read from his diaries. that was at Kent State. I also publishd him in "A Festschrift for Djuna Barnes on Her 80th Birthday" & "My First Movie."
as often happens we lost touch over the years.
here's his contribution to "Gildzen at 50" :
how quickly joy can turn to sorrow. abt an hour & a half after acquiring my first Anna May Wong quarter I got the devastating news that Robert Hansen died last nite.
I'm crushd. he was such a kind & generous man. he was a hero in the poetry world. his creation of Poems-for-All brought so much joy to so many. for years now he made little books which he gave to his poets for free to "scatter like seeds." naturally we calld him the Johnny Appleseed of poetry.
I thankd him often for being so supportive of my work. after a piece of mine appeard on a bench in the Palm Springs Public Arts Commission project he creatd the wee book "The Poet's Bench" from photos postd online & surprisd me with it. that was one of the sweetest gifts ever to come to me.
for years now I've been carrying a couple of his little books with me wherever I go. since I no longer have a business card I used these instead. & everyone was so happy to get one. I do believe they are my most popular publications.
I can't imagine a world without Robert. I will miss those envelopes full of little books & always a note -- usually with his self portrait. I hope he knew how important the work he did was & how much so many poets loved him.
last week I learnd 3 of my poems were rejectd by editors of an anthology in Germany. yesterday I posted on Facebook that I'd be happy to send a pdf of "The Bob Poems" to anyone who wantd it. one person responded. one.
so how do I endure the hurt of such rejection & disappointment?
I make art (that nobody wants).
after 11 months this series is complete. I pin'd a bangle to the pocket of a white shirt which I wore to the matinee of "Titanic: The Musical." & once home I stapled it to card stock & added the final penny.
I have to admit that in these last weeks it was a challenge to continue the work because the initial excitement was gone. however after doing the ultimate piece I do feel elation that I was able to make 65 of them.
now back to "Playbill Piece" which I've neglectd of late. I suspect it'll take another year to bring that series to completion. I hope for endurance.
all 4 years of high school I was on the staff of the student newspaper. & for a part of that time I representd the paper on the Hi-Timers. that was a group of area student journalists brought together by the Cleveland Press for various events.
shortly before my 17th birthday I went to that paper's offices for something calld A Day at the Press. each student was assignd a staffer to follow. mine was Stan Anderson -- the paper's film critic. I remember I gave him a tip that Lila Lee was in Elyria & he calld her for a phone interview. before leaving he put down a stack of film stills & told me to take some with me. one was of George Montgomery shirtless & holding a rifle. I think it was from "Watusi."
that image joind 2 others from my boyhood. Aldo Ray in a swimsuit & Sal Mineo showering. that trifecta has been in my head all these decades. they helpd me grow into the gay man I am today. I saw all of these men during our lives. but Montgomery was the only one with whom I actually spoke. it was my first trip to Palm Springs & by accident I encounterd him at the art museum which was exhibiting products of his careers as actor & artist.
today a friend visiting from NYC wantd to do the local cemeteries. this time I decided to bring with me that still of Montgomery which I'd had for 63 years -- one year longer than this friend has been alive. it was an emotional moment as my movie-mad boyhood danced with my developing sexuality. what a journey.
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| photo by David Wallace Crotty |
this morning my friend Lisa messaged me some photos which pop'd up in Memories on her phone. they were taken on my only trip to Disneyland. we are with our mutual friend Bob Barnes whose love of all things Disney was only matchd by his adoration for "I Love Lucy."
I had never seen these photos. they are particularly poignant because Bob was so averse to having his photo taken. but here he begins to let down his guard. he was having a great day. & he was sharing his joy with friends who cared deeply for him (even when he verged on crazy which he cd do well).
last nite I "found" some folks from my past via internet searching. I so wantd to write Bob telling him of my excitement & filling him in on some details which I knew he'd find juicy. this still happens. I continue to miss him in my life.
so seeing us being happy on that day brings me comfort. for whatever happens in my next chapter I know I already have novels of living on the shelf.
1) I love lists
&
2) I've reached that age in which the act of summing up is beginning to begin
here's one:
My Best Penpals (so far)
Roberta Elzey Berke
T.R. Queen
Ira Joel Haber
Richard Martin
Bob Barnes
I'm delightd to be the subject of this handcut collage by Lova Delis as part of her current analog glitch series.
she didn't know it when picking background elements but that magazine ad resonates for me. "True Story" began in 1919 publishd by a company calld True Rendition. I don't recall it as clearly as I do its competition when I was growing up in the '50s. "True Confessions" was first publishd by Fawcett in 1922. & that magazine came into our house. I suspect it wasn't Mom who subscribd but her crazy sister who also "handed down" copies of "Confidential." I was much more interestd in what seemd lurid to a movie mad boy in the latter which Mom calld a "scandal magazine." however I began writing early & sought publication wherever. I have a dim memory of some sort of contest or call for entries in "True Confessions." & even tho I didn't read the magazine I think I sent something in which was publishd. what surprises me is that I have no copy of whatever it was. as far as I know my first magazine appearance was a letter to the editor in "Screen Stories" (item C1 in my bibliography). & I think that page is with my papers at Kent. perhaps my appearance in "True Confessions" soon embarrassed me enuf to dispose of it long ago along with all memory of it.
long story....... but that all came back seeing the ad Lova put beside me in her piece.
I abhor smoking. but in my drinking days I puffd the occasional cigaret. & once —— while quite drunk —— I allowd Jonathan Williams to give me one of his cigars.
this box apparently was made in Honduras but containd 25 cigars from Nicaragua. it was Jonathan’s. he brought it on one of his Kent visits & I askd him for it.
over the years I used the box to store whatnots. but for its eternity I’ve decided to fill it with paper napkins from my travels. & as a tribute to the creative process I’m writing with my Bar Cecil pen on those napkins ——- remembering past times when I had an idea & wrote it down on a napkin.
this was the word Grandpa Gildzen used for bus.
it just poppd into my head.
I don't remember the last time it was in my head.
I still see that glorious body
suspended in air
or wrappd in wheels
stopping time
dance does that
or sex or a poem
I spread fig preserves
on boulart toast
& remember the dancer
gliding thru my guests
at a party at my lake house
for a moment time stops again
he's in mid-leap
& I'm too young to realize
how soon the curtain drops
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| (photo by Jack Mitchell) |
