Where have all the foxes gone?

By Roxanna López

https://roxannalopez.com 

Photo by Sunguk Kim on Unsplash



I am busy. Who isn’t? But I like people who ask for what they need and also I’m rather grateful and loyal to people who are helpful or supportive of me in any way. Therefore, when Snowy asked for an OP I almost agreed to do one even though I am rather…busy.

Also, I like it in this forum, I think this is not the first time I say that. There a number of people who have been very supportive and fun to interact with, Snowflake himself, Susan, Marie, Milo, Red Sea Robinhood, Miss Violet, SuzieZeller, Peachy Keen, MoonChild, Ronson, StarDust, Kaarin, Drew, and whole bunch of others. There have also been—I am happy to say just very few—some others that like to be listened to but do not take the time to interact productively with other people. It doesn’t matter, I still like to come here and hang out when I have the time. But if you invite me to an OP and I take some of my scarce time to read it and comment, the least you can do is upvote my comment if you like it, or at least politely disagree with me if you don’t. “Shouting” matches and name calling get old fast for me. Also, if somebody who never reads my OPs or interacts with me in anyway keeps inviting me to their OPs, meh. Sorry, busy. We all are. I am saving my time to support those who support me.

And that leads me to the origin of these piece. I really wanted to support Snowy because he is fun and he keeps his forum as a mostly safe place to visit. The thing is, what to write about? 

I thought I would do a political piece since I am reading Barack Obama’s book A Promised Land and it has me thinking about politics. But I am interested in politics mostly as contemporary history and I figured maybe that is not the fun part of politics for most people. Anyway, about this book, the only thing that I want to say right now is that from the very first time that I encountered Obama’s campaign tactics they blew my mind away. I voted for him when I lived in Illinois. I have always wonderingly exclaimed, “Wow, Obama’s campaign managers are so brilliant! I wonder who they are.” I new about David Axelrod and David Plouffe, I knew they were just the tip of the iceberg. Reading the book I am getting a new appreciation for the inspirational power that a well-conducted political campaign can have, and the hordes of people that need to be involved in order to make it successful. And the vision and faith— yes, faith, the collective delusion, the being part of a thing bigger than oneself—that it takes to keep the machinery moving. And money, of course.

Anyway, this is one of those nights in which I cannot sleep. I’ve been working on a new mix-media canvas that is coming off really ugly, not at all as I see it in my mind. It doesn’t worry me; it is part of my process to go through layers that look ugly to then find some sort of fix that make my paintings look beautiful, at least to me. The process keeps my mind on high alert though, a kind of unshakeable obsession. It is worse when I am trying to fall asleep, I see paintings wanting to be painted, hear novels wanting to be written, and occasionally, snippets of tunes that want to be sung.

So unable to sleep and tired of working on that ugly painting, I hid behind the curtain of the living room and tried to catch a glimpse of the foxes. There were, by my imprecise count, about six foxes in the neighborhood, mostly showing up by night. By the end of the summer they seemed so well pleased with themselves that you could also see them during the day. I even found myself no more than ten feet from one of them in one of my afternoon walks. I stoped and stared at it, it stared back. I was amazed that it was so nonchalant and that it looked exactly like the Fantastic Mr. Fox from the movie. In the last two or three weeks I haven’t seen another fox day or night and I was wondering if they migrate somewhere during the fall of if they had been killed—I hope not.

So here you have it Snowy, my political, non-political OP. One thing only is left for me to wonder: where have all the foxes gone? Do any of you know?


By Roxanna López

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