It’s a warm, clear sunny Monday morning in Santa Cruz. Jenny and I are sketching in a graveyard. Jenny suggested it and I’m sleepy from arriving late last night from Minneapolis. I am enjoying sitting in the shade under an old gnarled tree and joking around with Jenny. While leaning up against the base of the tree, a spider crawled up my back from the tree and Jenny brushed it off. I liked this grave in particular because of the lei and flowers decorating it. They are plastic and the manufactured colors stand out in a natural park, with dehydrated yellowed-green grass and grey stone markers. We are giggling that several of the headstones are phallically shaped. Jenny is an art teacher and says that at some point in each year, she has to have that discussion with her students, “It’s not that complicated a shape…”. She iterates that there are repeated themes in nature, this just happens to be one of them. When we finished drawing, on our way back to Jenny’s car. She shows reverence and walks around the graves to read the names on the gravestones.
One thought on “One Penis after another here in the Graveyard”
Sometimes a monument is just a monument?