LOIS NETTLETON

Saturday, April 3, 2010

LOIS NETTLETON

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

My life was hand painted on Dresden china.
Pale blue, magenta and violet hues
Swirling boldly,
In dips and swoops.

I was watching “Lois Nettleton TV” on YouTube.
One of my favourite actresses.
Bleach blonde hair,
Perky laugh.

Paint splattered onto the bumpy rag paper.
My hand was frenzied, unfrozen,
Moving in simple, swirling directions.
Always the nagging doubts and dreams surrounding the creative urge.

Lois died from lung cancer.
We never met.
I still have the autographed picture she sent me
When I was a discontented teenager.

The eroticism of the 60s film, “Woman in the Dunes”
Washed over my psyche.
The lead actress bathes a handsome man
She has trapped in her house in a sandpit.

I once had the blind date from hell.
Nothing went right.
He walked out of that art house movie because he said he didn’t like people being mean to each other.
It was an allegory which he didn’t understand.

Lois hit her career stride in the late sixties and early 70s.
She never seemed to age.
That bubbly, gurgling laugh and slightly crossed eyes.
I wish I knew more about her private life.

What did she do when she wasn’t working?
She dated Frank Sinatra, briefly
And cared for her ailing mother.
Did she have an active sex life?

The events of the day sometimes spill over into your dreams.
Reoccurring frightful nightmares that continue for decades.
Driving down the darkened road, at night,
With no license and no exit ramps.

Lois went to 2 “Twilight Zone” conventions before she died.
I wish we could have met.
Who inherited her 2 Emmy Awards
Or did they have to be returned to the Academy?

Wish I could unload all my possessions, one day,
Giving me a heightened sense of freedom.
Clippings from the past, stones, jewellery, books.
And debts that sit smugly on my firm shoulders.

Jackie, Lois, Cloris, Anne, Carrie, Lee.
Actresses that meant so much to me,
Over the years.
They have no idea.

It’s like listening to a favourite album.
Being touched, deeply, feeling a strong connection,
But the creator of the work is not there.
They have no idea that you ever felt that way.

Someone reads your work and weeps.
They read it again and again.
It changes their life, a tiny bit,
But you never know because you haven’t met.

I sold a painting, once.
Don’t know who bought it.
Is it valued by the owner?
Does he joyfully gaze upon it, every day?

Lois Nettleton has given me such joy.
She’ll never know.
Endless hours of admiration and respect.
Like most actors, she fades into obscurity.