Today was my day again. It started with a wake-up call and clicking into awareness with perfect sobriety. No middledreamstate for me today. Direct to caller, soul wound in. After my shower, I was dancing through the livingroom, getting dressed to Emilie Simone and a fellow, who had seemingly been just cutting through next to the building, watched me through the wall of window. I stopped when I noticed him, and he motioned for me to open the window. I did so and he said, “That was fantastic, may I get your number?”. I replied, “Sorry, this isn’t my house.” and he said “Oh! Sorry to trouble you then.” and walked away. I just imagine him walking another block or two before realizing that my answer really had nothing to do with his question. *laughter*
“marks your path with scattered seeds beneath the opal stars”
T. Paul was on the bus today. It’s really nice seeing him one on one sometimes. Let ourselves catch up on real things, not only shows and performance. He’s been working the tattoo convention and was looking his age for the first time since I’ve known him. I had a moment of regret when it came to my stop, but I’m certain to see him again. We’re both such butterflies and there are only so many people in this small city of ours. Proof in point, when I arrived at Bryan’s to make props and costumes, it was found that we have an inordinate number of people in common. I’m willing to believe that if he were to place all of his friends in a line, I would know two of every three. He tutors Satisha, for example, and had lunch with Terri Diane only last Saturday. We didn’t get a lot done, but what we did get done was important, so I consider my few hours there well spent. The Red Queens dress has been laid out, (who, in another inscestous city moment, is being played by Monica Chattaway), as have been the three cards who paint the roses red.
“but in a crowd ther’s only one beneath the opal stars”
It was pauring rain by the time I left the house. He insisted on my borrowing a coat, but I talked him into only an umbrelle. Walking back to the Drive from Nanimo in the rain was very pretty. All the fairytale gardens between then and there. Roses climbing towards heaven, red like silk. The flowers I had put in grilles of the closed shops last night were still there. I saw some from the busstop on my way. White elegant lines soaked crushed into the pavement.
I wrapped up the umbrella when I reached the Drive. The rain and life had conspired to make me brilliantly enthusiatic. I can’t remember when last I walked in rain, it’s been so long. From first down to Sweet Cherabim, to give a call to Koyczan. Straight to answering machine and all out of quarters, but it didn’t matter. I’ve no set plans today to be ruined, not until later at least, and later has yet to happen. *grins*
I was happy in the rain. On my way back up the skytrain, Graine D’Etoiles started in my head and I couldn’t help it – I began to dance. Swaying and twirling with my clothes plastered soaked to my body, closed umbrella in hand, trying to sing in a language I didn’t know. In retrospect I realize I must have made quite the sight.
Maybe I am the Moons Daughter, silver and shining and mad. I would like to think so..
I think I’m just happy. I feel myself again.