I said I was going to

Maurizio Nannucci-1

I said I was going to call. I said I was going to RSVP. I said I was going to write a check to pay that collection agency that claimed I never returned a copy of Slumdog Millionaire, which I’m pretty sure I returned. I said I was going to call and ask why I was still receiving invoices for unpaid bills that I thought had been paid, and then I said I was just going to write the check anyway and be done with it, but then I thought, what if they keep sending me false invoices and I keep writing checks?

I said I was going to snap one photograph a day and post another online, but then it felt like no one was looking and it felt like I was giving things away for free, which is alright, sometimes. I said I felt like I was giving everything away. I said I was going to sell these books that I made online, or that they were going to be on sale at a shop. For the record, they were. For the record, I sold one. But you weren’t keeping a record, were you?

I said I was going to connect you with that gallery where your work might fit. I was going to call you when we both got back home but you had my number and I didn’t have yours and you never rang. I was going to write you a letter but what good was a one-sided correspondence? I said I was going to send you a postcard last autumn, but I couldn’t find one with fall foliage, to which you said I could find one “anywhere.” I didn’t look anywhere.

I said I was going to start my MFA and I did. I said I was going to submit. I said I was going to paint. I was going to “get my work out there” and I guess I kind of did. I was going to apply for jobs. I was going to update my resume. I said I was going to contact galleries. I said I was going to update my website. I said I was going to write a blog post but what for/about?

I said I was going to visit friends in Brooklyn. I was going to move to India. I said I was going to stay with family for a little while. I said I was going to move to Portland. I said I was going to drive to the northernmost point of Maine, just to see it. I said I was going to visit that printing press. I said I was going to look up that author you told me to look up and then I forgot the name. I said I was going to try to attend your book launch. I said I was going to the store. I said I’d look after it. I said it wasn’t going to be okay to leave things in someone else’s house without asking first.

artwork by Maurizio Nannucci at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; photograph by e.v. de cleyre

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9 Comments

  1. 😐 I feel saddened by this. But it’s so true, I think we all carry this type of list with us in the back of our mind. Must feel good to get it out of your head!

  2. For the record, I had really good intentions to purchase some of those hand crafted books…..I also have a list….subtract one thing and add three….and the list continues to grow. Please send me a few of those books when you get a chance and I will send a check. No guilt…I really did mean to purchase some.

    1. Thanks so much! But I didn’t intend to guilt anyone into buying handmade journals, haha! I’ll be listing them back up on my etsy shop soon. I had to take them down to redo the clasps, so I’ll send you the link when they’re done. Thanks for reading!

  3. Beautiful.

    Best line: “I said I was going to send you a postcard last autumn, but I couldn’t find one with fall foliage, to which you said I could find one ‘anywhere.’ I didn’t look anywhere.”

    I could totally see this on stage as both a monologue and a dialogue…

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