futurebird's Diaryland Diary
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out of the blue
There is something about the respect and honesty that R meets me with (and that I meet him with in return) that makes feel that this will last. The glow hasn't faded: that's odd for me, I'm easy to bore. But, to me R is like a new person each day-- I'll never figure him out (I never want to!)
It's easy to brick up the windows and doors and stay safe in being all alone, toneless and lost. I've done that and I don't like how it tastes. But, it's hard to see that it is bitter in there. It�s hard �till you tear down the walls again.
I finished writing one of my plays this morning. I'm very happy about this. (I almost don't want to say much about the play. I don't want to jinx it.) The writing is coming out with less effort since I asked R to get on my case about it. Another good thing between us is there.
R has a harp by his window; he used to play it as a jazz harp. I�d noticed some dust on it so I went over it with a cloth. The dust came off the surface but on the board I noticed that there was something bright peaking through. I could see that the harp was not just covered in a layer of dust but that under a thick waxy layer of dirt and oils was the true color of the harp: delicate, bright, glass like.
So, I made some soapy water with oil soap and washed it. It took some time, since the dirt was thick and I didn't dare use a stronger detergent that might mare the lacquer underneath. Slowly the gold-brown colors emerged. When I first saw R's harp I did not see that I was missing its true colors and richness. I did not know it was covered in haze. I thought the haze was the finish of the harp. It gave me so much joy to find more there than I had ever expected.
I went around the strings with a cotton swab, I cleaned the strings which had been brown at first, but they were, in fact, semi-transparent and in a pastel rainbow of colors.
It made me happy since it mirrored how I feel these days. I cough up smoke and dust from my mouth. I'm covered in a layer of haze and dirt that is slowly sliding away. The warmth and brightness is restored to my skin the cobwebs are breaking off... and I'm shocked... amazed at how many layers there are to clear away. Decay, corrosion, and antiquification all hinge on time and they work slowly. It's so easy to slip away and become numb and safe and never know your brightness is hidden. But, compared to the vitality I feel now, that safe feeling seems, well? Worthless. I won't ever forget that, now tha
blue.html - 2002-09-17
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