September 2002 Archives

The moon is full and perfect tonight. It shines like a bright white light. I went out to look at it. The air is warm. Cicadas chirping. I could smell the vague perfume of a pale yellow rose. Some stars glimmered in an indigo sky. (Moonlight had washed the pitch black away.) Pure pale light made everything glow. Sharpened details. Wind moved through trees.

I stayed there for a while.

Staring at a computer screen, five days a week -- and that cursor is still blinking on white. It is still, more or less, quiet. There is some typing but...well, typing is typing, if you know what I mean. Outside (in the night) I can hear a hot-rodding car. I can see a candle in a window, flickering.

I should watch a movie, play a game, or read a book. I’m kind of tired, though.

I had rice and noodles for dinner. Watched a good show. Talked on the phone for a bit.

Later, I sang some Elvis while feeding the cat.

I'm feeling kind of vague, today. Droopy. The environment started out cool and gray -- but now things have warmed somewhat and are accented by a fluctuating brightness. Windows opened, air moving through fitfully, the sound of birds and water. There's a faint perfume on the breeze: blurry, like me.

I'd go for more coffee but I've already had a good amount. I feel like taking a nap but I want to get stuff done.

At the moment, I'm pondering stories, writing this, and doing laundry...

When I'm at the beach I like to play around with the sand. Mostly just running my fingers through it (especially when it is very warm and almost hot to the touch). I also enjoy shaping it into things: suns, moons...castles, of course. Drawing abstract designs with a sea shell or fingertip is fun, too. There's a wide variety in the texture of sand: the heavy, clay-like feel of the wet stuff; the grainy, packable middle-of-the-beach sand; and the silky, almost flour-like feel of some of the very dry, "dune sand".

Hmm. Just something I was thinking about.

Now I'm thirsty. Time for some cool water...and progress.

Happy Wednesday.

As I danced across the rooftop, persued by an angry yellow-jacket, I mused on the fact that I am not as limber as I used to be. That, and that it was a good thing I don't have a problem with heights.

Recently, I dreamed about buying a Bow-Flex. I find that to be mildly hillarious. (Of course, I am easily amused. Thank goodness.)

In my cyclic way I am drifting back into the I-gotta-get-back-into-shape mode. Especially if my sub-conscious is populating my dreams with visions of fitness equipment. I mean, sheesh, I'm used to far more exotic sights in slumberland. Ya know?

Way back cough years ago, I remember the sense of accomplishment at finally being able to do three full sets of pull-ups (each with a different grip) on a Solo-Flex. And those inverted sit-ups! I actually enjoyed them. (I never did get around to enjoying squats, however.)

It's not that I've gone totally to seed -- but I am softer and noticably more creaky than in the past. I really should put a lid on that before things get annoying.

Wonder if a Bow-Flex would fit in my bedroom?

Violet breathes, full of knowing secrets. White opens. Wide. Black goes deep and folds around -- covering and shading. Color is a palette of impressions, personalized and projected.

Scent is similar, perhaps stronger. The perfume of that rose will always "pop" in my mind. The ocean's spectrum of aromas inhabit their own mental country. And what does the smell of Merlot say to you?

Sound, I would say, calls attention. Presents information. Whispers and roars: it turns the head and focuses...eyes, oddly enough.

So back to color.

I like the green of a cat's eye, the blue of cobalt glass, the orange of embers. Lemon yellows, coffee browns. The copper of new pennies. And indigo and tangerine. Sand and seashells. The slow, smokey kiss of burgundy.

And today?

Azure, with an overwash of translucent gold -- all lit from behind by hours, thought and the distant motions of the sky.

Last night there was rain and thunder: it was all pouring rumbling, lit by intermittent violet flashes. The darkness was deep and mobile, prowling around like an invisible animal. Today is bright crystal blue.

Hello September.

I'm kind of tired and spacey, with coffee pulling me into focus. I have ColdPlay's cd, A Rush of Blood to the Head playing in the background. That's working, filling in the quiet with an appropriate soundtrack for my feel today. What I'd like to do is flash out a really cool story -- then get outside and drive. Time will tell how that plan goes...

The extended weekend was pretty.

At the moment, it doesn't feel like the Wednesday-middle of a new week, and a new month. At the moment, I wish I was driving and sitting on the beach at the same time.

Last night, I dreamt that invisible mountain lions had jumped into the kitchen, and that one was hiding in the refridgerator. I guess that strangeness has washed into this daylight.

Wednesday is super-vivid. Wish my eyes were opened wider.