Tangerine: A Book of Hours

3:23 PM, It seems like the day is suspended in a bright sunny moment but that the hours are, never-the-less, pouring by. I’m tumbling into the weekend a bit disheveled and with a lot of stuff to get done.

But what I really feel like doing at this moment is to take a long cool shower, get dressed, and lounge in the sunshine.

I have a rushed/not rushed vibe going on, and I sort of like it.

While I’m at the beach, I’ll have my good old paper notebook and will be writing Tangerine entries and other things. So there will be updates, once I get back. Yesterday, I got a new pair of contact lenses that have sharpened the edges of the world to a noticeable degree. I’ll enjoy those for sure.

This seems so brief, a little flick of the camera shutter. But it’s true. A small bright moment. I hope your small moments are sweet today, full of motion and relaxation combined. I will be here again after a span of moments have passed.

See you then.

--- JWR, 7/7/00

Slipping Time

I suppose that this isn't that thrilling, but...

On this day, two years ago, I posted this entry to Tangerine:

Salamander.

No one could be more surprised than I am that I've actually been doing an online journal since 1997 or so...

Posted by The Allurium at 4:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

5:48 PM and Leona’s recorded voice is singing smoothly. Warmth is weighting the air like cotton. It’s Wednesday and once, as a child, I had a fever. I told my parents about the birds I could see fluttering here and there. Today, real birds fill the trees. Chirping and tweeting, swooping. Evening sunlight makes their feathers shine. And the leaves (multi-shaded in a thousand green flavors) shift and fold the air. Gently.

Last night, glimmering curtains of light hung over the city. Vast ephemeral blossoms opened wide in the black sky. White-snap flickers thumped the air, echoing back from the hills. Colors leapt into the flash-strobed darkness as boats posed on the black glass of the river. I stood on the railroad tracks, head tipped back, watching and grinning.

On Sunday I’m leaving town. Ten hours or so to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I want to smell the ocean, dig my toes into the sand. I want to feel the wind in my face, the waters on my skin. I want to see the sea.

I bought some books today. Beach reading. I’ll be there for two weeks: I hope is goes slow, sweet, and bright.

--- JWR, 7/5/00

Leona's Voice

Leona? Well that would be Leona Naess. My brother, Joel, loaned me her, "Comatised" CD. Good tunes.

Books? Hmm...

My beach reading (so far):

All Tomorrow’s Parties by William Gibson (ISBN 0-399-14579-6)

The Iron Dragon’s Daughter by Michael Swanwick (ISBN 0-380-73046-4)

Earthling by Tony Daniel (ISBN 0-312-866I-5)

Hearts in Atlantis by Stephen King (ISBN 0-684-85351-5)

(And my favorite song on Leona's CD is "New York Baby". What's yours?)

Posted by The Allurium at 4:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

2:44 PM, At this point, I am drinking green tea with lemon -- and reflecting. Billy Idol’s "Daytime Drama" is backgrounding the sun-saturated room. I feel a bit worn-out inside my skin, today.

But.

Relaxed.

Too.

I should iron a pair of pants for tonight.

The Jimmy Buffett show was tall heat and open skies. Laughter and Corona. Bob’s tangerine vodka slush. Sunglasses and Hawaiian shirts. Honey roasted peanuts, baby. Yeah. And now the Fourth of July is almost here. Summer is pouring by like a deep strong river: glimmers of gold and emerald shifting and sliding away. I want to swim in the depths of it, suspended in that luminous heat. I want to be washed to new places, inside and out. I’m tired of a lot of stuff...

I don’t like to iron, for one. And this is a lazy Saturday.

I’m too relaxed, but...

My voice is smoke washed, still reflecting last night. The room’s soundtrack is now the Guns n’ Roses version of, "Live And Let Die". I feel like shaking loose and bright-gliding through the evening. At this point in the moment river, however, I’m drinking cool clear water.

--- JWR, 7/1/00

Posted by The Allurium at 4:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)