Caws Radio

the fortress.

I'm drinking strong coffee and writing an essay about Weegee. I guess I didn't post much for this month of November, but I've been busy, you know.

Sometimes in the dark hours of one's life we cope in strange ways. The stress will keep stinging you all over like a bodysuit of bees until something snaps in your mind and you start doing something, building something. A fort! Random things are brought together and wrapped up in blankets, sheets and towels to create a space, one that didn't exist before. And you inhabit that space, which may be small and uncomfortable, but it feels secure. And you sleep in it, and then wake up and perfect it some more. Further fortify it against everything. The fort must be solid and strong! We shall pack some rations for the coming night, and make sure the entrance can be sealed from within. That way the in can stay in and the out can stay out.

But eventually I destroyed the fort. I woke up and made some coffee and looked at the cacoon that filled my living room like Richard Dreyfus's mock mountain, and I knew it couldn't exist anymore. I did not want to inhabit that space. So I dismantled it, returning my apartment to the way it was. Now I look back on the rise and fall of the fort, and I can't help but laugh.