Saturday, September 23, 2006
Four Hours Later.
Lower back resisting every move,
The olives helped.
I moved one ton of rock today. By myself.
Tomorrow we chop wood.
We'll load the truck bed that the ton of rocks I hauled yesterday from the now closed rock mine rested in while I slept the sleep of one who is up till 3:am, working the late shift, sleeping deep into the world's morning. Today, in four hours I unloaded it all. Forty three years old. No shrinking violet when it comes to back breaking labor. Not I.
Tomorrow we head for our land. The truck bed will return loaded with wood we have chopped together.
We will eat spaghetti thanks to the sauce you made today while I moved rock and pulled weeds. While you cooked you harvested tomatoes and pumpkins and laid down tarp on the remaining dozens of green tomatoes so tonight's predicted freeze will not turn them to mush before I have a chance to roast them. For The Sauce. Red chili sauce. Red gold. My newest culinary achievement... Those green tomatoes will ripen too thanks to our efforts.
A ton of rock to fill in and complete my Eye of The Universal in my garden's zeroscape.
Nine loads of sand and road bed moved to fill in low spots under the clothes-line, in our drive and where I attempt to recreate the feeling of a dry stream bed. Countless weeds and grass no longer growing where rocks lay. They have been moved to the two new compost heaps: Cosmic Compost. Heaps!
You have fed me your divine gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches with steamed broccoli and baked yams. The martini was a fine reward.
Now I stretch in candle light.
Our yard is nearly ready for it's winter rest.
One ton of rock later I am headed for mine.
Monday, September 11, 2006
The night was sweet and The City fun to be in. Darcy took us to a favorite coffee & dessert bar to treat us to after dinner sweets and more conversation...
The waiter in the bar who made my almond float brought back the memory of floats I used to draw all the time when I was a teenager~ His voice a deep Romanian visit to dark and opulent times, somehow reviving my vampire awareness. Almost as if the vampire, in living forever, holds the keys to the human culture. Preserving memories for us that we can not be trusted to remember thanks to our selfish nature and short attention span. Or perhaps our need to forget when the worst has become reality...
Violence and oppression living next to sensuous luxury that invisible slave labor produces... it continues does it not?
And so we arrive, the I that is we, arrives at ancient memories... & dreams are revived.
Dream: Model ~ Make beautiful clothes ~ Paint passionate visions ~ Nurture creativity in others ~ Believe in miracles... Discover!
Talent honored with discipline and time.
I belong to my dreams, the instrument of their making. Becoming, I make real what cellular memories have left quietly steeping.
Skies and blood orange fire in the sky~
A vision of healing. A quest for redemption~
This day of Our Lord (*Be SURE to make the o in Lord with a female peace symbol!)
Wings of desire unfurl~
Mariposas emerge from struggle after deep slumber and fill the air with exuberant flights of nectar search.
The discovery theirs~
Light on Surprised Delight.
These memories live on. Dreams persist.