14 not 20
by Steven McCabe
Replacing 20 framed ink drawings with prints for my upcoming book launch & a small exhibition while simultaneously disintegrating thousands of pages and surfaces & putting out the final clear bags on Thursday & rushing to teach art classes Saturday morning/ my mind a blur flipping between channels like an old TV & slipping on a stair-top landing, immediately knowing (and seeing and feeling) the obvious while wrenching back & ribs/ instinctively the body ‘autocorrecting’ a dangerous backwards fall.
Cell phone/ front pocket dragging my prone body to collect the charger/ beginning this brief journey through paramedics, technicians & doctors, nurses & aides performing occupationally with good cheer & diligence (Merlin serving a favoured mead) & as insistence loudly replaces numbed haze they bring me white pills & your face appears softly like Visions of Johanna, watery tears streaming down my cheekbones/ a young physician equating the emotional to the physical.
Sanka instant coffee the next morning at breakfast, almost Hippocratic, like the reflection of a temple with seven new screws holding my reconfigured ankle together.
poemimage 
Oh, no! A fall — how terrible. I’m so, so, so sorry to hear it (and yet you made poetry out of it). Is that a broken foot/ankle? It sounds as if, at least, you have had good care, and are still planning to have the launch next week? Best wishes for a speedy recovery …
hi Chandra, thank you for writing. Yes, it sure felt terrible at the time and has step by step (no pun intended) improved. I’ll go ahead with the launch! Sorry for the delay in response time but my general ‘blurred’ state has slowly sharpened. thanks again!
That sucks– Hope everything improves / heals quickly, Steven– And best of luck with all of the projects. Take care!
Hi J.E.,
thanks yes everything is improving and getting folded into the moment and healing. Many thanks!
Get well soon – your writing makes it all worthwhile! (Well, for readers anyway.)
Hi Anna, thank you, I’m glad the writing worked for you. Much of my ‘word work’ here is quite spontaneous and then ‘in real time’ the resetting of the words happens. But this time it took very little reworking.
“Life as art” is an understatement with you, Steven! Good gracious…7 pins. Heal well and enjoy the launch of your book. The framed print is incredible.
Hi Jana, thank you for your thoughts. I am healing well (perhaps with help from the healing well) as we speak. I’m glad you like the print. Yes, life as art! I guess somehow the body had to get in on the ‘new start’ action. For some reason!
Thank you.
Best wishes with the book launch and the ankle relaunch, Steven. A plaster cast is another wordless poem 😉
Very good analogy and visual thoughts Nar that the plaster cast is a wordless poem and the ankle being relaunched! love them both! Many thanks.
Oh goodness, Steven, you have disintegrated more than ‘pages and surfaces’! Your poor ankle. I hope there is not too much pain. It sounds like you may now be bordering on bionic….
Huge congratulations and best wishes for your book launch/exhibit. I wish I was closer! Your prints will be so gorgeous framed and exhibited.
Take good care.
K
PS. Sorry you had to drink Sanka!
Hi Karen, Yes, very good observation about all that has disintegrated! 🙂 The pain has died down (should I say that?) a lot now and I’m just waiting to really feel bionic.
Thank you for the book launch congrats. Too bad you’re not nearer! I haven’t seen the framed work on the walls yet but my friends said it looks good.
Well, I recall once in Italy seeing on the menu ‘American style coffee’ so I thought ‘ah. a dark hearty ‘regular’ coffee’ instead of espresso. And that was Sanka! Now that was indeed a disappointment.
The 24 gap between breakfasts at the hospital made the Sanka seem like a champagne of instant coffees. Er, or something like that! :- )
Thanks so much!
Ouch! Poor you, Steven. Hope your ankle heals soon. Your prints are beautiful. And so is the poster.
Thanks Richard, It took a few blurry days to get back on top of things but after 7 days inside I feel a. rather stifled and b. on the mend. Thank you for the design feedback also!
congratulations on book launch – sorry to hear about the fall – hope you are not in too much pain (or despair) and that all mends well and quickly – take care
Thank you Veronica. The anaesthetic has worn out of the system and the pain is decreasing significantly so if I can restrain myself from any key errors (like signing up for ballroom dancing or the like) the natural healing should kick up several notches incrementally.
Have been away and just now getting updated…ouch Steven, not much fun at all, especially in the face of your book launch, for which all kudos. All images amazing…you deserve top honours…heal and all hail to you…
hi John, Thank you very much. I haven’t heard ‘heal and all hail’ put together that way before. Nicely alliterated. If you say it fast enough and repeat it it sounds like a few different phrases.