New Directions

A phone call yesterday afternoon brought me one step closer to participating in a clinical trial (research study) of a product intended to battle cancer. Later today or tomorrow, if the process plays out as explained to me, I should receive another phone call with instructions on how to electronically sign a form giving consent for my inclusion in the research. The potential dangers and side-effects of participation are a little scary, but so are the risks of the chemotherapeutics I have been receiving for the past fifteen months. So, the decision to participate in the study probably will not expose me to perils much different from the ones I’ve already experienced. My involvement has not yet been fully confirmed, but once I sign the consent form I officially will be a research subject. The older I get, the greater the risks of an earlier-than-expected-expiration I am willing to take.

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My entertainment choices for the last two nights have been duds. Two nights ago, I watched The Twister: Caught in the Storm; ostensibly a documentary about the 2011 tornado that devastated Joplin, Missouri. It featured several people who had lived through the event; either the direction they were given was awful or they were bad actors or both. If I had been thinking, I would have stopped watching after the first ten minutes. Apparently, I was not thinking. Watching it was an unwise use of time…time I can never recover. Last night, I watched Trap, another waste of time. It was a film written, produced, and directed by M. Night Shyamalan. For some reason, I assumed his involvement in the film would assure a positive experience for the viewer. After exploring some other films in which he was involved, I cannot understand why I made the assumption. The setting for Trap was primarily an arena during a teeny-bopper concert, which was organized as an FBI sting operation designed to catch a serial killer who chopped his victims to pieces. Before deciding on Trap, I thought about watching a kid movie: Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl. That would have been a better choice, without a doubt. I shouldn’t complain about movies, of course, because any movie I were to create probably would be far worse than either of the ones I watched. Ach.

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Remember when “earth-tones” were extremely popular? Both exteriors and interiors of homes used those colors extensively in the late 1970s and early 1980s. I have noticed that those same palates seem to be growing in popularity again. Magazine photos of redesigned living areas are rife with browns and tans. Subtle hints of washed out orange, too, are appearing among paint swatches. And light sage green is showing up as a complement to other soft tributes to the gentle colors of spring and fall. I suppose bold, assertive colors lose their appeal after a while; after a certain amount of time has passed, they become unpleasantly harsh and aggressive—overpowering. I would like to think unpleasant orange—no matter how light or translucent—will disappear soon, along with other orange annoyances. I remember visiting a classy restaurant, Earthtones, in Houston when I lived there. Like the color palate for which it was named, the restaurant lost its luster; its appeal withered when brighter colors began to be popular.

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Two of my favorite woods are mesquite and olive. I’ve seen a number of kitchen bowls and utensils made of olive and a smaller number of desks and credenzas and coffee tables made of mesquite. It’s hard to select just two “favorites,” though. Teak, pecan, and several others also delight my eyes. If I could have my pick of wooden furniture, I would select Swedish/Scandinavian and Mission styles, each piece constructed of a different species of wood. Maybe. I also like fine leather and sturdy fabrics. I’d have to pick the right climates, too, to ensure the materials would tolerate humidity and temperature and exposure to sunlight. Those requirements might force me to have homes in different parts of the world. Actually, I would not need to be forced; I would need plenty of money, though, or furniture building skills I have never mastered. The trick to picking the right wooden furniture is a thorough understanding of how to build comfort into the contours of every element of the furniture’s design…and, of course, selecting a highly-skilled artisan/craftsman who knows how to translate raw wood into pure comfort.

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Flipping a switch is so easy when seeking light. Looking for darkness, though, is not such a simple undertaking. I wish we could easily flip a dark switch. Flipping a light switch off does not result in the same rapid response as flipping it on. That is especially true during daylight hours, with a light next to a window. Flipping that switch off may cause the ambient light to dim, but darkness does not follow. Even in a space with no light fixtures, light can slide into the room beneath the doors. But a well-lit room does not grow dim when darkness slips under the door.