The Mind of Isaiah Zagar / Eye to eye with Grace

The mysterious blob

The name of a new horror film? No, the mysterious blob is this pretty orange thing to the left of my telephone. Whatever could it be?

While we give you a minute to think -- and the clock is ticking as you read -- I'll tell you about the Great Day we had on Ada's Outing.

Our convoy consisted of 3 cars heading out to South Street to see Isaiah Zagar's Magic Gardens, a mosaic-filled phantasmagoria that is a reflection of the artist's mind. When I saw him coming thru the doorway, my heart skipped a beat



I was in the Presence of Greatness. I introduced our support group by saying We're New Directions, the largest support group in the Philadelphia area for people with depression, bipolar disorder and our family and friends.

I could tell you a few things about depression, said Zagar, as I pulled out my camera.

Our group wandered around the glittering gardens which featured several huge sculptures, including this three-headed godlike figure made of wood



What dyou suppose inspired this six-foot high megalith with erect penis? I also liked this painted chair


with its Latin American influence of bright colors and stylized composition. Zagar, 71, and his wife Julia had both served in the Peace Corps in Peru. I mentioned to them at the end of our tour that Lisa Berenson had just been freed from her Peruvian jail after serving a 15-yr sentence for conspiracy to overthrow the govt. Imagine! A nice Jewish revolutionary, daughter of 2 college professors, behind bars in Peru. The Zagars were happy to hear of her release. I was not surprised of their interest since his artwork has the political overtones of many great artists. Remember Picasso's Guernica! she said holding up the Spanish republic's flag.

To read more about Zagar, here's a NY Times article that was hanging on the wall in the museum. In it, his son calls him a solipsist. We all know people like this, if you know the meaning of the word.

One time a writer friend of mine said his daughter called him a narcissist. Am I a narcissist, Ruthie? he asked me.

Of course not, I assured him. The man is the definition of the word narcissist.

Oh, Marcy, please forgive me for not calling you back. How bout Friday? I'll try you then. I wrote a poem with you in it but haven't had time to load it on my blog. You're a minor character. The main character has the exciting name of Bob.

Give up? Whenever I go to the drugstore, I put a pill box in my car to remind me to pick up my refills. So about half a dozen of my gelatinous Vitamin D pills were sitting overnite in my car.

When I dug my fingers in the bottle to put em in my pillbox, I found a pasted-on plastic mass on the side of my pill bottle. Scraping it out, I gazed stuporously at the mass.

These were my pills. All congealed together. I put these in my body? I asked myself. These unnatural pieces of a plastic-like substance?

I called up my pharmacist who told me to run some water over them and they would separate. They did a little and then an odd thing happened -- the contents of the pills splattered on my neck.

They were oily!

I shuddered and washed off my neck and threw away the pills.

I said to the pharmacist, "I put this shit in my body?"

He laffed.

Unfortunately I need the stuff.

And now the really good news.

Dan and Nicole invited me -- Bubby Ruth -- to partake in the 3D ultrasound of Grace Catherine Deming. Dan drove to the Langhorne office in the stifling 91 degree heat, A/C blasting in his car.

While Nicole lay on a table, John, the ultrasound dude got her into various positions so the baby's face would show up.

Yes, her face!

We saw the face of Grace Catherine. She was curled up in a ball undoubtedly asleep. Then we saw her mouth open in a yawn. Her legs went straight up like a yogi and neared her face. We saw her cute little hand and 5 fingers and her tiny foot.

Mama! she called. Mama! Eat some more of that rhubarb pie from the farmer's market. Damn good stuff. But next time, for chrissakes, mama, put some goddam ice cream on top. Vanilla, of course!