Last night I dreamt of floods. Floods took over all of Nashville. The only areas where you could be free and dry of all the water was on the highest overpasses of the highway system. It was one of those dreams where cities from your past present themselves in small unexpected ways. The waters of the Cumberland slowly merging and then mixing with the dirty brown waters of the Houston Brazos river. The two waters coming together in the dream were hesitant at first like two apprehensive hands coming together for a handshake, and then as the force of nature pulled them together, there was no visibly discernible difference between the waters. People grabbed onto table tops, some had boats, others just simply drifted along in a quiet and accepting back stroke/float. There was no panic, no cries. Just a simple acknowledgment of "hey this sucks" and then "well, shit happens". Della Robbia sofas floated by with beautiful textiles browning from the muddy waters, artwork dotted the waters with vibrant colors, and strips of white reflective tape from the highway danced on top of the water breaks.
After having dreams such as these, I wonder the significance. Why did my mind conjure up these images? Floods typically mean "emotional issues and tension". And all I can think is what? me? never.
It's rare to actually have time to sit and think these days. That is, unless the flu takes over your body and you end up in bed for 3 days. Unfortunately, the kind of thinking that occurs is more of the "no one loves me, woe is me" kind of crap. Needless to say, I am still not feeling so very optimistic today. I am beginning to need a sign. A sign I can grab onto in the middle of flood filled streets....a beacon of hope to help guide me back to my usual state of optimism. I guess when you ask for a sign, it doesn't really present itself.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Thursday, January 18, 2007
from my past.
Insomniac
by. ms. plath
The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole ---
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.
Over and over the old, granular movie
Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days
Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,
Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,
A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.
His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.
Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.
He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue ---
How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!
Those sugary planets whose influence won for him
A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.
Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.
Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.
His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.
He lives without privacy in a lidless room,
The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open
On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.
Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats
Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.
Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,
Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.
The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.
by. ms. plath
The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole ---
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.
Over and over the old, granular movie
Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days
Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,
Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,
A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.
His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.
Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.
He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue ---
How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!
Those sugary planets whose influence won for him
A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.
Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.
Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.
His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.
He lives without privacy in a lidless room,
The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open
On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.
Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats
Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.
Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,
Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.
The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.
Saturday, January 6, 2007
turn up the music, take me over, take me anywhere....
i love...obviously...:
1. my family both immediate (my mom and daddy are fantastic) and the family i have made here in nashville.
2. jill, ollie, leia, richie, elijah, molly, stephanie & charles, cameron, allison....etc, etc.
3. modern design, mid-century modern.
4. modern art.
5. vintage furniture, art, objects.
things you might not have known i love:
1. cooking for friends over many bottles of wine and great conversation.
2. the way flour feels on my hands and between my fingers.
3. picking dead leaves off of house plants.
4. the smell of dirt and soil.
5. watching movies over and over until they are so funny i can't stand it.
6. annabelle sleeping in a curled up ball (i can't believe she can get so small) next to me in bed.
7. the way annabelle gets insanely excited when i say "annabelle, outside?"
8. clean sheets right when i have had a shower and shaved my legs (weird, yes. i know.)
9. good lighting. mostly modern classic pcs, but good overall "lighting" in general. dark and comfortable...not glaring.
10. walnut wood. i love the grain and color.
11. george harrison, frida, marimekko, jonathan adler, angela adams.
12. henna orange, the palest blue, and marine blue/green.
13. coffee on sundays when i have nowhere to go and i can sit and drink as much as i want, as slow as i want with friends coming and going not caring if i am still in my pj's and no makeup.
14. my house almost anytime.
15. being able to remember most of my dreams. reliving them all day the next day. flying in my dreams. lucid dreams.
16. white. pottery, furniture, lighting, dishes...etc, etc.
17. hardware stores. i get so INTO them. it's hard to focus.
18. my backyard after dark when i am all alone and the sky is clear. being able to find the little dipper and seeing where it is in proximity to my home.
19. small town feelings (east nashville) and big city anonymity.
20. great music that makes me forget who i am and then remind who i am 4 seconds later.
21. getting postal mail from someone i love (postcard, letter, card...a nice little hello) it makes me smile.
22. people who "get" me.
23. researching. learning. exploring.
24. black and white photographs. old. new. people i know. people i don't.
25. spending the day completely alone with nothing to do. (only every once in a while)
26. slightly damp paper.
things i don't like AT ALL:
1. arguments that don't go anywhere.
2. unfounded judgement.
3. ignorance.
4. being ignored.
5. my computer freezing (which hardly happens...its an apple)
6. people misusing "in regards to" (it's "in regard to")
7. holes in my socks.
8. overdraft fees.
9. car trouble.
10. misunderstandings.
11. assholes. bitches. with no reason.
12. the last sip of beer.. when its warm and ick.
13. seeing my friends in pain or suffering in emotional turmoil and knowing there isn't anything i can do to help.
14. seeing stray dogs or cats.
1. my family both immediate (my mom and daddy are fantastic) and the family i have made here in nashville.
2. jill, ollie, leia, richie, elijah, molly, stephanie & charles, cameron, allison....etc, etc.
3. modern design, mid-century modern.
4. modern art.
5. vintage furniture, art, objects.
things you might not have known i love:
1. cooking for friends over many bottles of wine and great conversation.
2. the way flour feels on my hands and between my fingers.
3. picking dead leaves off of house plants.
4. the smell of dirt and soil.
5. watching movies over and over until they are so funny i can't stand it.
6. annabelle sleeping in a curled up ball (i can't believe she can get so small) next to me in bed.
7. the way annabelle gets insanely excited when i say "annabelle, outside?"
8. clean sheets right when i have had a shower and shaved my legs (weird, yes. i know.)
9. good lighting. mostly modern classic pcs, but good overall "lighting" in general. dark and comfortable...not glaring.
10. walnut wood. i love the grain and color.
11. george harrison, frida, marimekko, jonathan adler, angela adams.
12. henna orange, the palest blue, and marine blue/green.
13. coffee on sundays when i have nowhere to go and i can sit and drink as much as i want, as slow as i want with friends coming and going not caring if i am still in my pj's and no makeup.
14. my house almost anytime.
15. being able to remember most of my dreams. reliving them all day the next day. flying in my dreams. lucid dreams.
16. white. pottery, furniture, lighting, dishes...etc, etc.
17. hardware stores. i get so INTO them. it's hard to focus.
18. my backyard after dark when i am all alone and the sky is clear. being able to find the little dipper and seeing where it is in proximity to my home.
19. small town feelings (east nashville) and big city anonymity.
20. great music that makes me forget who i am and then remind who i am 4 seconds later.
21. getting postal mail from someone i love (postcard, letter, card...a nice little hello) it makes me smile.
22. people who "get" me.
23. researching. learning. exploring.
24. black and white photographs. old. new. people i know. people i don't.
25. spending the day completely alone with nothing to do. (only every once in a while)
26. slightly damp paper.
things i don't like AT ALL:
1. arguments that don't go anywhere.
2. unfounded judgement.
3. ignorance.
4. being ignored.
5. my computer freezing (which hardly happens...its an apple)
6. people misusing "in regards to" (it's "in regard to")
7. holes in my socks.
8. overdraft fees.
9. car trouble.
10. misunderstandings.
11. assholes. bitches. with no reason.
12. the last sip of beer.. when its warm and ick.
13. seeing my friends in pain or suffering in emotional turmoil and knowing there isn't anything i can do to help.
14. seeing stray dogs or cats.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)