Therapeutic Creativity
Jul. 15th, 2005 12:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eric_daltonI’ve had way more Scotch than is good for me, but my mind is racing and the peaceful oblivion of a good drunk isn’t going to work for me tonight. No chance of having it out with Karl either; he said he won’t be back from his errand until tomorrow night. I peer blearily at my watch . . . make that tonight. So I’ve ended up here, where it all started, hoping that I can somehow create something better out of this disaster. I stand inside the darkened bookstore staring blankly and then start to wander around, my fingers lightly running over the spines of thousands of books.
I’d planned on doing something a little different with the window display, intending to capitalize on the Red Carpet Tours that still come through here on the trail of the Lord of the Rings. Want to get my store noticed by those people and I do have a degree in marketing, might as well put it to work. So I had Staci, one of my more talented clerks, working on backdrops. Nothing elaborate, nothing like what WETA produced, but I intended to change the display to Elrond’s library. Now after meeting those two at Karl’s house, I wonder what the library at Edoras looks like, not that I get the sense that either of those men do a lot of reading. But I can't get Tolkien and his creations off of my mind, so this seems as good a time as any to change the window.
Back in the storeroom, I take stock of what we’ve put aside for the display so far. Staci has nearly finished the painting, I had bought some Elf costumes and make-up when WETA was selling off some of their props a few years ago. I consider what furniture to use, trying to remember what was in the movie. A chaise of some sort, I think. I take the creaky freight elevator to the upstairs storeroom to look around. The good thing about having an ex-boyfriend who was an extremely flighty interior designer is, that when he flounced off to Sydney, he left behind most of his inventory. Surely he has something up here that would work. I ramble through the covered furniture, finding the chaise that I remembered and a delicately carved chair. I move them into the elevator along with a few bolts of subdued hued velvet.
My buzz is starting to wear off, and I don’t have anything stronger than an opened bottle of Sirrah in the back, but it will do. I drink straight from the bottle and then set it beside the cash register. I clear out the current display and sweep up the debris. I’m definitely getting tired, but I’m determined to have this done by the time the store opens in the morning.
While I move the new items into place, I wrestle with the problem of Karl. He says that he loves me and I don’t doubt that, but he confuses me more than I can deal with sometimes. He claims he’s never been in a relationship, and why would he lie about that? But when we first met, he acted like a man who’s been so severely burned by love that he’d rather die than trust anyone again. I’ve never met anyone so cautious about a love affair. His defenses have been falling recently and I finally heard the words I wanted on the night of his birthday, but I know there’s still more to him, more facets of his nature that he holds back from me. I’ve been as patient with him as I can be, and those brief moments of pure surrender are coming more frequently, but he still won’t let go completely. Hard to fathom that all of that is from his exceedingly irregular upbringing. And there’s the matter of what was wrong with him when I first met him. I can’t believe he was just casually interested in those abnormal psyche books. He looked so on edge that day.
Which brings me to the biggest mystery of all. Théodred and Éomer. Two names out of a fairy tale. A very compelling fairy tale, but a fantasy nevertheless. Why would they need to conduct their affair at Karl’s? Unless part of what he told me is true . . . that they’re avoiding a wronged partner. That doesn’t add up with what I know about Karl, some things can’t be denied . . . he has a very strong sense of morals. I can’t believe his conscience would let him help someone to cheat on one of his friends. That goes against everything I know about him. Love is so confusing sometimes . . . I could almost believe he'd cheat on me, believe it enough to go spying on him, but I don't believe he'd help someone else cheat. Must be more sozzled than I thought.
I’m still working as the sun comes up and I shove the problem of Karl away. The only solution is to talk to him and I can’t do that until tonight. I’m finally finished about an hour before the store opens. The backdrops are in place and Staci did a good job of painting the illusion of carved leaves and vines. I’ve draped the unfinished parts with velvet to give the illusion of curtains or something. Long haired wigs on the manikins with elaborate hair jewelry and prosthetic ears. One Elf on the chaise, which is draped in velvet also, and one in a chair. The last is standing at the back in front of the painted shelves as though she’s searching for a volume.
I go back to the office and brew a pot of coffee, waiting for my employees. I’ll let them open up and I’ll stay here till one, when Troy is supposed to come to work. They’ll have enough people by then.
I’d planned on doing something a little different with the window display, intending to capitalize on the Red Carpet Tours that still come through here on the trail of the Lord of the Rings. Want to get my store noticed by those people and I do have a degree in marketing, might as well put it to work. So I had Staci, one of my more talented clerks, working on backdrops. Nothing elaborate, nothing like what WETA produced, but I intended to change the display to Elrond’s library. Now after meeting those two at Karl’s house, I wonder what the library at Edoras looks like, not that I get the sense that either of those men do a lot of reading. But I can't get Tolkien and his creations off of my mind, so this seems as good a time as any to change the window.
Back in the storeroom, I take stock of what we’ve put aside for the display so far. Staci has nearly finished the painting, I had bought some Elf costumes and make-up when WETA was selling off some of their props a few years ago. I consider what furniture to use, trying to remember what was in the movie. A chaise of some sort, I think. I take the creaky freight elevator to the upstairs storeroom to look around. The good thing about having an ex-boyfriend who was an extremely flighty interior designer is, that when he flounced off to Sydney, he left behind most of his inventory. Surely he has something up here that would work. I ramble through the covered furniture, finding the chaise that I remembered and a delicately carved chair. I move them into the elevator along with a few bolts of subdued hued velvet.
My buzz is starting to wear off, and I don’t have anything stronger than an opened bottle of Sirrah in the back, but it will do. I drink straight from the bottle and then set it beside the cash register. I clear out the current display and sweep up the debris. I’m definitely getting tired, but I’m determined to have this done by the time the store opens in the morning.
While I move the new items into place, I wrestle with the problem of Karl. He says that he loves me and I don’t doubt that, but he confuses me more than I can deal with sometimes. He claims he’s never been in a relationship, and why would he lie about that? But when we first met, he acted like a man who’s been so severely burned by love that he’d rather die than trust anyone again. I’ve never met anyone so cautious about a love affair. His defenses have been falling recently and I finally heard the words I wanted on the night of his birthday, but I know there’s still more to him, more facets of his nature that he holds back from me. I’ve been as patient with him as I can be, and those brief moments of pure surrender are coming more frequently, but he still won’t let go completely. Hard to fathom that all of that is from his exceedingly irregular upbringing. And there’s the matter of what was wrong with him when I first met him. I can’t believe he was just casually interested in those abnormal psyche books. He looked so on edge that day.
Which brings me to the biggest mystery of all. Théodred and Éomer. Two names out of a fairy tale. A very compelling fairy tale, but a fantasy nevertheless. Why would they need to conduct their affair at Karl’s? Unless part of what he told me is true . . . that they’re avoiding a wronged partner. That doesn’t add up with what I know about Karl, some things can’t be denied . . . he has a very strong sense of morals. I can’t believe his conscience would let him help someone to cheat on one of his friends. That goes against everything I know about him. Love is so confusing sometimes . . . I could almost believe he'd cheat on me, believe it enough to go spying on him, but I don't believe he'd help someone else cheat. Must be more sozzled than I thought.
I’m still working as the sun comes up and I shove the problem of Karl away. The only solution is to talk to him and I can’t do that until tonight. I’m finally finished about an hour before the store opens. The backdrops are in place and Staci did a good job of painting the illusion of carved leaves and vines. I’ve draped the unfinished parts with velvet to give the illusion of curtains or something. Long haired wigs on the manikins with elaborate hair jewelry and prosthetic ears. One Elf on the chaise, which is draped in velvet also, and one in a chair. The last is standing at the back in front of the painted shelves as though she’s searching for a volume.
I go back to the office and brew a pot of coffee, waiting for my employees. I’ll let them open up and I’ll stay here till one, when Troy is supposed to come to work. They’ll have enough people by then.
