the habit of being

Katharine Tillman, All-Purpose Creative Mass
My art teacher, Mr. Morris, thinks I have a good sense of line. He says so quite often. In fact, it’s practically the only thing he ever says about my work. I tend to think of myself as very non-linear. My thought processes don’t flow that way; they float. This non-linear business may be no more than my trying to find a more philosophical way of calling myself disorganized and illogical. All great philosophers have good sense of line. I am neither linear nor philosophical, yet my lines are good, according to Mr. Morris, and I like them. Lines are all I can do. Do I really -sense- them? Some good lines are like ribbons. All ribbons are, of course, meant for ballerinas. Jennifer is my favorite ballerina. I have a good sense of her, I hope, though she won’t be had for long.

My Best Friend’s Lover
I felt a strong longing to paint her today while I was in the shower. I don’t know her. She intrigues me and disgusts me and is my object of envy. She has things I want. I’ve been told she wants things I pretend to have. I desire so strongly to get inside her and see what she sees. Unlike me, she is neither blind nor soft, I suppose. Outside her mind, she has learned things. I don’t know everything there is to know.