The clouds seem to be moving from the west to east this morning, only a pale patch of pink lights the horizon as the smoky remnants of the night sky brush past. It is hot already, I sit on the patio in the pale light and the birdsong is tropical, full and intense. I think to when my life felt that way too, full, intense, heated with the dampness of passion and feel movement covering up the taste of if going too fast, too thick. I watch the pale patch, trying to hold onto it, let it give me inspiration for the day, hope if you will, but the clouds aren’t slowing down.
But as I watched the pink rose disappear and the smoky haze take over hiding what might have been left, something else did happen. The light of the day arrived, turning what was gray to pale dove, hinting at blue skies. It isn't the same as having a beautiful sunrise, a smile from the earth right to my heart, but it isn't as bad as constant storms either. I guess it is just like life.
Friday, April 30, 2004
Friday, April 09, 2004
out of the mouths of babes
The buttery light melted around the palms this morning, shadows on the potted plants gave me the sense of a European courtyard. The sounds of breaking day hold the morning like parentheses, an owl like hoot, a ground pecked chitter. The faces of the petunias curl up and over their own foliage, trying to feel the sun, and I want to do the same, just stand there and let the morning light lull me into the full day. It makes me want to dress in blue, and feel the worlds my fingers itch to create. But I have to wonder, as I look at the list of things I need to accomplish today, if that isn't just another allergic reaction.
I've been in parent mode lately, both of my own kids and in "village" agenda. A week ago, my youngest son went on a Date. It wasn't his "first"… but it was the first one to something other than a school function. Actually, three "couples" double dated… a trip to the movies. Arranged via conference call between them.
Did I mention that he just turned 11?
To be fair, my son isn't as interested in the girls as he is interested in doing what his buddies are doing so he can hang out with them. In fifth grade, I know from memory and years of observation of his three older siblings, the Girls hormones kick in big time. They NEED a boyfriend… not so much to do anything with, but to pair with their initials, giggle about at slumber parties, and fuel imaginations that for the most part don't go beyond holding hands.
A short trip down memory lane reminds me of Larry… my first Love, He was redhaird, freckled, and wore black leather boots with pointy toes and tight jeans. Larry was cute. And popular. And well, back then I was … not. Lets not push my own mother's ugly duckling analogy too far…
What I did have was early development. I was one of the first girls in my class to … you don't really need to know all those details, but suffice it to say that in 5th grade I'd already achieved 5'2" of my towering 5'4 and a half"…. And well. Larry hadn't,
One day we were talking…imagine that!… and he told me that he only didn't "like" me because I was "too tall." Heartbroken, I asked him what I was supposed to do about THAT, and with the logic I now recognize had no source in malice at all, he advised me to get in the dryer and shrink, and then use a brick on my head every night to keep from growing. The original sensitive guy…
Larry dropped out of school before we graduated… last I heard he was still wearing pointed toe black boots, but had added cigarettes and lost his hair. He never did get to be very tall either. Ah well, he had his chance.
Back to present: Somehow, due to seniority in parenting and pure stupidity, we were assigned the transportation responsibilities for the Boys. It was made clear to us that there was no need for us to sit with them. Or even stay in the theater once the PG 13 tickets were purchased. The movie was Hidalgo… horses… the girls chose. I was just glad it wasn't Scooby Doo….
No need to drag out this story. The girls were at the theater when the boys arrived. They already had their tickets… so the boys breathed a sigh of relief that they might have to part with some of their hard earned cash… and got in line for refreshments. Not one of them spoke to the three young ladies waiting for them. Not one offered to buy them a pop or popcorn or….
We went into the theater. The kids wanted to sit in the top row… and I figured we'd already done our job so we sat lower.
The boys sat 1,2, 3 next to each other. The girls likewise. The boy and girl sitting next to each other were not a "couple".
We heard intermittent giggling, and sadly one patron turned about to hush them. (there were maybe 15 people in the theater. It was a late afternoon matinee.)
The movie was okay. But Long.
The boys left to go to the bathroom three times. The girls only once.
When it ended…. They still were clumped together in their respective gender swarm. The boys were out of the door before we even caught up. The girls… stood looking after them longingly. I smiled at them… I know them from school, and told them not to worry, it would get better. Kelly, my son's "date" told me "we know." Hmm.
When asked how it went, son said, as he does to nearly every question, "it was alright." The three of them then broke into tunes from Barney, asserting that the Barney theme song was a cover for "This old Man"… which they proceeded to sing at the top of their lungs. After that, it was the ants go marching…. I was just glad we dropped the other two off before the bottles of beer came out.
Have I mentioned how delightful eleven year old boys are? I know, from experience, that it is just to make us love them enough to let them live through twelve.
.
I've been in parent mode lately, both of my own kids and in "village" agenda. A week ago, my youngest son went on a Date. It wasn't his "first"… but it was the first one to something other than a school function. Actually, three "couples" double dated… a trip to the movies. Arranged via conference call between them.
Did I mention that he just turned 11?
To be fair, my son isn't as interested in the girls as he is interested in doing what his buddies are doing so he can hang out with them. In fifth grade, I know from memory and years of observation of his three older siblings, the Girls hormones kick in big time. They NEED a boyfriend… not so much to do anything with, but to pair with their initials, giggle about at slumber parties, and fuel imaginations that for the most part don't go beyond holding hands.
A short trip down memory lane reminds me of Larry… my first Love, He was redhaird, freckled, and wore black leather boots with pointy toes and tight jeans. Larry was cute. And popular. And well, back then I was … not. Lets not push my own mother's ugly duckling analogy too far…
What I did have was early development. I was one of the first girls in my class to … you don't really need to know all those details, but suffice it to say that in 5th grade I'd already achieved 5'2" of my towering 5'4 and a half"…. And well. Larry hadn't,
One day we were talking…imagine that!… and he told me that he only didn't "like" me because I was "too tall." Heartbroken, I asked him what I was supposed to do about THAT, and with the logic I now recognize had no source in malice at all, he advised me to get in the dryer and shrink, and then use a brick on my head every night to keep from growing. The original sensitive guy…
Larry dropped out of school before we graduated… last I heard he was still wearing pointed toe black boots, but had added cigarettes and lost his hair. He never did get to be very tall either. Ah well, he had his chance.
Back to present: Somehow, due to seniority in parenting and pure stupidity, we were assigned the transportation responsibilities for the Boys. It was made clear to us that there was no need for us to sit with them. Or even stay in the theater once the PG 13 tickets were purchased. The movie was Hidalgo… horses… the girls chose. I was just glad it wasn't Scooby Doo….
No need to drag out this story. The girls were at the theater when the boys arrived. They already had their tickets… so the boys breathed a sigh of relief that they might have to part with some of their hard earned cash… and got in line for refreshments. Not one of them spoke to the three young ladies waiting for them. Not one offered to buy them a pop or popcorn or….
We went into the theater. The kids wanted to sit in the top row… and I figured we'd already done our job so we sat lower.
The boys sat 1,2, 3 next to each other. The girls likewise. The boy and girl sitting next to each other were not a "couple".
We heard intermittent giggling, and sadly one patron turned about to hush them. (there were maybe 15 people in the theater. It was a late afternoon matinee.)
The movie was okay. But Long.
The boys left to go to the bathroom three times. The girls only once.
When it ended…. They still were clumped together in their respective gender swarm. The boys were out of the door before we even caught up. The girls… stood looking after them longingly. I smiled at them… I know them from school, and told them not to worry, it would get better. Kelly, my son's "date" told me "we know." Hmm.
When asked how it went, son said, as he does to nearly every question, "it was alright." The three of them then broke into tunes from Barney, asserting that the Barney theme song was a cover for "This old Man"… which they proceeded to sing at the top of their lungs. After that, it was the ants go marching…. I was just glad we dropped the other two off before the bottles of beer came out.
Have I mentioned how delightful eleven year old boys are? I know, from experience, that it is just to make us love them enough to let them live through twelve.
.
Saturday, April 03, 2004
kiss of dawn
The sun is just starting to lighten the sky... it's very humid... the clouds are stirred up on the surface like they have something deep beneath them that wants to come out and hasn't yet found its way. the image is one of steaming, boiling heat... and as I look away to write it, the sun slips up high enough to turn the sky bright rose, threaded with lavender, purple really, in a bright flash of color that I have the sense was there only for me, only for that moment. My reward for waking up early, the kiss of dawn. It is a start.
good ideas keep pouring in on the publishing co. Looking for a new name for it. Any ideas?
good ideas keep pouring in on the publishing co. Looking for a new name for it. Any ideas?
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