June 2005 Archives

The mix of the air-conditioning, inside, and the thick heat beyond, is like the contrast between ice and whiskey. Chilly and glowing. I'm actually cold in here, fingertips a bit dense. But if I step outside it is like being wrapped in hot towels...and then the mosquitos start homing in.

Still, the evening is Summer saturated -- and it all feels good.

According to my horoscope, "this is a time of great transformations..."

I spent most of this early evening roaming around taking photographs. The heat softened as the sun drifted down closer to the horizon. I did a lot of macro stuff, carrying the phone around with me. Snapped odd little shots till my battery ran dry.

The evening is pretty. Calm. Golden sunlight slanting in.

I have a low headache and feel kind of grubby. The air conditioning is almost chilly. My camera's battery is charging. I'm idly biting my lower lip while I delete spam from my mailbox. And writing this, of course.

I'm thinking: shower...then a tall glass of water. Maybe some aspirin.

I'm thinking of a time of great transformations.

Thursday, and the sunlight is painting bright lines on my floor.

This week has seemed long, but sweetly summery. Heat is piling up into the powder blue sky; birds and flowers are thriving. I feel like I should be getting more done. Opening things out further.

Gotta work on that.

4:17 PM

Had to take a bit of a break. My hands were shaking, so I ate some cookies and a couple of crackers. Tasted good.

The shine, outside, seems fixed deeper now. Enduring, in the afternoon. I'm going to get out in the yard for a bit. Feel the heat and all that.

I'm kind of tired.

5:09 PM

Spent some time in the un-conditioned air, with sunlight pouring down on my bare back. Birds and butterflies. Got a headache, now...and I'm sweaty. Time for a shower and some unwinding. Food, too.

That'd be good.

8:14 PM

I had rice and veggies for dinner, played around with some images from my camera, and I am now relaxing -- with a bit of a soft headache. Daylight still glows (though it is evening, here). I've always loved that about Summer. The light shift.

Think I'll watch a flick...or play some games. The unwinding is going slow.

Spring whispered away like a cool breeze, a flutter of flower petals.

Summer, now, is announced by the glimmer of fireflies -- and air deepened by heat.

I am up, alone. All is quiet.

Though it was beautiful, Spring had some hard moments. Tears and pain. I hope (as always) for sweeter times. May this season be warm and bright, its nights lush, its moments pure and filled with happiness.

May these blossoms ever open to better days.

Hello Summer...

The sky, on the last day of Spring, was low and like wet cotton, illuminated from behind by a golden light. Later, the gold faded and things grew pale and timeless. I sat outside, in it. Watching the light go down. It was beautiful...peaceful. The breeze was soothing. I could hear children playing in the park. I could hear the tidal sounds of the highway.

Fireflies glimmered.

I am at the Summer gate. Spring has almost blurred away, breezing past in a shower of flower petals and airy seedlings. Things have greened and blue-skied, opened out to warmer moments.

Time for a shift.

This change of look brings The Allurium up to version 6.0 (more or less). For some time now I have been experimenting with how minimal I can get -- without sacrificing content. I have also been on a bit of an Asian kick lately, so that played into things. What I am really trying to do is to get down to essential details. I am still not hitting the exact groove I want to be in...but this feels closer.

I remember when "first person view" video games were new, developers talked of having "six degrees of freedom" of motion in those simulated environments. You could go forward, backward, left, right, up or down. There are even more degrees of freedom, here. But that makes the moves you do make all the more telling, I think.

Freedom leads you to the heart of things, to the essential. I found this haiku on the Web and was struck by how it did that too. It has been serving as my unofficial guide for version 6 of The Allurium. I hope that you like it -- and the new look of my site. My apologies for any parts of The Allurium that are not fully up to speed just yet. They will be soon.

And, as always, thank you for visiting.

I imagine walking through a swirling wall of rain, as heavy as an ocean current. Thick as sea water. In the night, surrounded by the scent of late Spring blossoms, I imagine having to lean into the downpour, pushing through it. Wet but warmed, by air gone nearly to Summer.

I imagine brighter days. Changes.

And Hope.