Mara Buck's Blog
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Jan.01.2010
Truth Is Not Subjective. I lettered this in crayoned Arts and Crafts script on a piece of bond paper and it hung on my porch for over a year until it blew away, perhaps to share its message with the world. At the time I made the sign I was furious. A grant-winning member of the Maine arts...
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Dec.31.2009
Weary with work and years, my father would never make it through to midnight and he would snore as the ball dropped, and on the floral sofa --- the one with the dog-chewed arms --- my mother would every year nudge him, there it is, look it’s happening, and he would roll his eyes open a crack,...
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Dec.30.2009
“Happiness? That’s an easy one. I know the answer. Everybody knows the guy who wrote Snoopy said happiness was a warm puppy. I’m cold right now. But I still feel pretty happy. I’m confused.” The puppy wrinkles her brow the better to access her non-existent brain trust.
“Well, I...
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Dec.27.2009
In the corner of the kitchen I employ as a plant stand a ten-inch-thick copy of Martindale-Hubbell --- the lawyer’s Holy Grail of personnel listings. The puppy snacks on the book occasionally, but in a recent graduation fit of career-planning, she now holds the profession itself in high...
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Dec.26.2009
A dear friend, a close friend whom I lost too soon to cancer said to me, when I congratulated her on having raised five daughters, she said with assurance, “They are all kind girls. They are all kind.” I am not given to tears nor overt sentiment nor the thoughtfulness of birthday cards, yet...
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Dec.22.2009
If there were Cliff Notes for Puppy Class, I would have paid any amount to spare myself these past six Saturdays of hell in which the puppy pulled, prodded, peed, pooped and was a shiny black nightmare at the end of a gnawed leash. I breathe a sigh of resignation. Today it’s finally over. ...
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Dec.18.2009
When we were young and in love and tempted the existential fires of freedom, you proffered me a possibility. (Oh, you know who you were! Do not deny it!) Choose, you said. Choose the happy secure span of a mediocre artist destined as dust for oblivion, or choose to sweat an anonymous life, that...
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Dec.12.2009
The black crow flies through snowladen branches. As she passes, white shimmers in her wake and she delights in the beauty of her action. A landscape in motion. At the highway she descends and another color is added. She paints with red.
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Dec.12.2009
The outside security light flashes on. It has been defunct for a number of years, but nothing around here seems to stay either fixed or broken. A twilight zone constantly in flux. The light reflects into the kitchen window sending the puppy into dire straits.
“It’s aliens,” the puppy screams. “...
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Dec.01.2009
“What’s a turkey?” The puppy is watching late night infomercials and Ron Popeil is advertising a wondrous machine that roasts a fifteen-pound frozen bird in thirty seconds. “It kinda looks like a chicken. I like chicken. Get me one. Cook it now.” The time is three AM.
“Turkey is a lot like...
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Nov.15.2009
“Time To Set Boundaries” is today’s lesson from the dog trainer. I erect barriers that make the Berlin Wall seem like a friendly neighborhood decoration. The printed class sheet states that the boundaries should be non-confrontational. I greatly respect the dog trainer, an experienced...
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Nov.13.2009
The puppy is adamant, as only she can be when her determined little soul is focused on her determined little belly. She cruises the kitchen counters with a thoroughness to make Julia Child blanch.
“Brisket! Brisket!” she chants.
I offer her a MilkBone as an appeasement.
“I said brisket, not...
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Nov.11.2009
Here’s a tricky question we should all ask ourselves. Have I in fact been published? Did someone upgrade my status when my back was turned? To the best of my own recollection I have personally remained a staunch literary failure. My only venture out into the writing world has been to blog on...
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Nov.11.2009
In a trunk filled with mothballs lies the somewhat-shredded woolen flag that flew over my father’s minesweeper while it cruised the Straits of Iwo Jima. My mother’s bridal suit and my father’s navy blues are there too, sandwiched along with the flag. I will keep the uniform and the suit along...
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Toni Morrison says, “If there is a book you really want to read but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” So I have. HIGHWAY TO OBLIVION.”
About Mara
A naïve Maine native, I arrived at NYU eager to become a lawyer (until l met one!) so switched to Art History (all those beautiful slides!), studied anatomy and painting at the Art Students League, wrote art criticism for “The Villager” and handled foreign...
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Causes Mara Buck Supports
Kennebec Valley Humane Society, Amnesty International