Two days, back to reality.
Back to puppy cuddles.
Back to furrit chattings.
Back to the hot studio with the grapevine around the side.
A studio I can paint in.
I’ll paint something amazing…
Listen to the cicadas and breathe in the heat and
I’ll sing along to Adele and Le Tigre at the top of my lungs.
I’ll contemplate taking up smoking, simply to have something to do between strokes.
I’ll change my mind, because of the health risks.
I’ll think about having a glass of wine instead…
Until I remember I don’t actually like wine much.
Two days and I can begin my countdown,
The countdown to 2012,
New Year’s Eve,
Which I’ll hopefully not spend alone.
I’ll think drunkenly about what is to come,
Hope that at least some of my heart’s desire will come to be.
Dreams come to fruition.
It isn’t much-
Inspiration, Intelligence, Independence.
Perhaps next summer I’ll be sitting in the back of a pick-up truck,
Baking in the sun,
A cold cider between my knees and a burger in my hands
While the smell of warm canvas and oil paint
Drifts from my paintings…
As they wait to be hung on smooth white walls.
In my dream I am happy,
Pleased with small pleasures,
A clear sky, a clear mind,
A room of my own, an income,
And a lightness in my heart.
I can hope.
I will hope.
In two days.
The sky splits open above me, and I sit safely in a shelter of bricks and plaster,
remembering that in this vast open plain storms were once the voices of the gods reminding us how small we are.
Now we huddle in big tough houses and don’t feel the wind,
we don’t feel the rain,
but when the thunder starts up again…
We are damned if we don’t quake right down to our
I love Australia.
I gave up on NaNoWriMo. I’m just not into it this year. Le sigh.
Things feel… strange these days. The past creeps into the present like silk or molasses. I don’t quite know what to make of it, but it hasn’t hurt me yet, so I’m letting it. I want to know what has changed and what has remained the same. I want to know who has changed, and who has remained the same.
No long, self-centered post today. Just quiet.
I think I need to go paint.
My bones are snakes, my muscles are birds, my eyes are a salt lake after the rain. My skin is the toughest of petals, my mouth the echoing cave, my breath the breeze across a field of wheat. My toes are the roots that pierce the earth and my hair the burnt sand after a bushfire. Inside I am warm and damp, my blood a song, the pulse you hear when I fall still.
I am blessed, I am laughing, I am inspired.
Things That Currently Inspire Me:
(William Adolphe Bouguereau – Dante and Virgil in Hell)
Actuaslly, pretty much everything by Florence and the Machine. I swear that woman is some deity incarnate.
…. I have so much uni work to do. O hai, procrastination! ….
I am loving this song.
The scene in Sucker Punch is pretty awesome too.
To be honest I’ve been looking for this song since I first read Strangers in Paradise (by Terry Moore)
There’s a scene in I Dream of You where Katchoo sings it. Loved it without having even heard it.