To not see my reflection for a full day? That may be difficult, but doable, I know it isn't today, although I did see myself for maybe all of five minutes, so that's close to a full day.

In truth, I think it isn't all that much of a problem. I know where my hair is and how I comb it, so that would be easy enough and when I go hat, I wear a hat, so who's to know if it's combed correctly.

My teeth are still in my mouth so brushing them would be easy, the same with showering, dressing, going to bed and waking up.

I don't think I would be bothered by not seeing myself, no angst, pain or worries.

So, my final analysis:

No reflection for one day is like a vacation from myself. Besides, I know what I look like, but ... it would be nice to see a younger version of me in my reflection at least once.

Not happening.

On a side note: Years ago, I blindfolded myself to see how well I could get around, pretending that I was blind. The blind never see their reflection, but I have to say, after less than an hour, I took the blindfold off. Being blind isn't a crutch and my respect goes out to the blind in how they relearn and rethink the ways of the world and their own surroundings and lifestyle.

(In that less than an hour, I walked into two different walls, one door and tripped over a coffee table and cut my thumb trying to slice a tomato.)

I was in Uganda, on a small island called Lingira, and there were no mirrors. A strange detail, now that I think about it, but I went for days without seeing myself. The first day, the habit of checking my hair or studying the circles under my eyes nagged at me, but I soon forgot that mirrors had ever been a part of my life to begin with. In fact, I quickly forgot that there was any difference between myself and the people around me- I forgot that I was white, and American. I felt African, because I made Africa my world and Africans my people. I didn’t even realize that I was thinking this way until I finally did look in a mirror and almost scared myself! Here was this white woman looking back at me, and it was the same person I’d always been, the same face I’d always had.

I suddenly felt a little sad that there would always be this difference between me and my African brothers and sisters. You can say that love is color blind, but no matter what, I knew I’d never truly fit in in the country I’d fallen in love with. There will always be this reminder that I am an outsider. Even if I spend forty years there, I won’t be able to change my skin. But for a few days I forgot that. For a few days I wasn’t white, wasn’t black, I was just a person. Sometimes I think we spend so much time staring into our own faces, scrutinizing every detail, obssessing over how others see it, and we forget to just be human.

I’m not entirely sure where I was going with this... Maybe I’m just rambling. Moral of the story, I guess, take a break from yourself. Go be with people, forget what others see. Just be together with someone. Invite them into your world, and become a part of theirs. Forget the differences between you. Love people who are nothing like you, who’s lives and stories and opinions and cultures and languages and ages are different from yours.

Life is too short- you have to decide how you’re going to live it.

I, for one, don’t want to spend it all looking in the mirror.

It doesn’t exist

It never lays down

Squeeze low, lupine gangly weeping Ducks

Hoo-hoo,Waaa-Waaa’s crackle sacculated staccato

Bayou-stained above the head of head of my cocoon

Eyelevel but centuries past, or years or days or claymated

Asking to be let be back in

Dripping mucous gold

Into the eyes of mine enemy

And I weave it

Through that tiny hole

Where the crying would like to be

If there was a bit left in me

Whiskey drained it out

Stole my gift

Black velour 3 piece

Skipping, clicking heels

Titanium eyes, just seen as he smiles back at me

With all that the Locusts ate, the years the Locusts ate

In his pocket

Everything that mattered

In his little coin purse

Win, no sir you did not

But for now, I’ll let you still believe that

And in the corner of my mouth, hardened pyramid of 4 days of the bitten bloody nails in the

M tel 6

In the green corners metastasized-into-limp reminiscences

And what I used to let fall on me

I will it back into the duck blind

Cajoling what I was me in camouflaged brown faced 15-year-old boy

And I KNOW THAT he hasn’t a thing

His distractedness wrestles with who I was before he arrived

Before Joe Block Died

Before Joshua Stern Died

Before David Casper Brigante Died

Or Hubbard

the lamentation bows behind the curtains

And Hell shining once in the loam of a beauty

That refrain cannot contain

Hell, yes you formed but did not crystalize

She’ol Slides back in shame.

All things work together.

It will be that way

And not some other way.

I pull myself

From off the bathroom floor

Soon, family

Will arrive at my front door

I wash my face

And look into the mirror

I’m here again

My heart flooded with fear

I reach up high

Our closet’s shelf, atop

And gather sheets

I hope these are enough

I lay down again

And rest some more

As I feel it

Seep from every pore

I take to task

And start with covering

Our bedroom mirror

With Fleur-de-lis molding

And then the bathroom

I take another glance

And shutter

A ghastly appearance

I think to shower

And wash it all away

Not right now

Perhaps later today

I move beyond

Our bedroom to the kitchen

And shield

Another; my reflection

And so on

Throughout my dwelling place

I can’t stand

To look upon my face

And lastly

I move toward the sight

Of me

On a journey into night

I can’t bear

To gaze upon my life

Without you

Standing by my side

And to realize

In this scent and pain I’m clothed

I’m wrapped in sorrow

In grief’s heavy robe

Perhaps tomorrow

I’ll feel differently

My saddened eyes

Will try to look and see