Opals

The scientists told me that it was possible. They convinced me that the gems could be formed rapidly beneath the tree in my parent's front yard. All we needed were ferns, dirt and some other chemical component they didn't bother to name for me. I knelt under the cool umbrella of that tree and dug the earth with my pointer fingers and sure enough the opals were there jutting up from the soil in their milky blue state. I plucked them and deposited them into my pockets.

I awoke this morning and it occurred to me that the exposure of those beautiful opals were symbols of good luck growing out of a simple and wonderful foundation.

White Flowers

The bouquets of white flowers stiffly stood in their vases
Hair changed color and form
Ladies chopped hair and salad
The smell of lettuce permeated the air
I was back in school

The rain is beckoning me back inside to read and write, again. From my bedroom window I can see the wet green leaves against the brick building across the way. The rain has made everything look shiny, clean and vibrant. I am glad that I'm indoors looking out. Perspective.

A body likes movement
It likes shelter
A reason to be

Beauty, change, and success bring anxiety

Please take this challenge to do and be more than yesterday
The bouquets of white roses are towering in their vases

2010 Begins

This morning Alan and I went to sleep at 3:00 a.m. after celebrating the New Year with a small gathering of friends and family in our home. I am sure that the dreams came, but as soon as I awoke they went into my bucket of lost memories. I can still smell the perfume I wore on my wrists though and the wine stain on the carpet matches the couch. The party was a success.

This year begins with holiday coffee, Alan's delicious eggs, "The Twilight Zone" marathon, and tender hugs from the man I love. This is a great start.

Reflection

In the bathroom I discover the chilly world of self-reflection etching my fingers across the tiles and fixtures. For some odd reason you, someone I never talk to anymore, are often trying to interrupt my solitude here in my dreams. This constant invasion of privacy makes me uncomfortable and without reason more lonely than I already feel. Do you come to remind me that even my most secret place is up for judgement? I wonder, but then I recall the shallowness of the contact we had. Your judgement is based upon the surface of me, not the deep complicated creature that I am. This miniscule space will not give you the long breath it takes to know me.

Each time the door opens and you peek in I am here with cold fingertips. I wait. I wait for you to leave, but you often just stand there and stare. You don't know me, but I know you.

What To Do

It's been a while since I last posted a dream blog. I've been dreaming all the while, but just not writing about them. Since I moved to the Westside in August I've hit a lull in my creativity. Anyway, last night I dreamt that I broke up with my fiance. He had not done anything terribly wrong, but I was frustrated with his lack of communication skills and his inability to romance me. This revelation and decision was spurned when he left for work without even so much as a goodbye. As he walked away I shouted his name and he turned around. I said, "You and I need to talk." He slowly walked back to me and lethargically said, "What?" Without hesitation I told him that I had decided to leave him. He didn't take me seriously. In fact he chuckled, "Of course, you won't leave me." His reaction frustrated me further.

As I gathered the strength and words to convince him of my earnest choice my mom came up to me with teary eyes and reached out to me. I said, "Mom, I can't talk to you right now. I'm sorry that you are upset, but I need to take care of my own problems." She blinked back her tears and walked away.

Anger burned in my chest as I turned around and faced his lifeless eyes. All he cared about was himself. How could I spend the rest of my life with someone so self-centered? The irony was I had turned my very own distressed mother away to communicate with him. She deserved more than that.

I woke up this morning still burning with that frustration perhaps due to a conversation my fiance and I had last night about Thanksgiving this year. As it turned out we had to pick one of our families to spend the day with. We chose his because it made the most sense since we will be flying up to Portland to celebrate Christmas with my family this year. I had to call my mom to tell her that we would not be joining them on Thursday. I know that it is the right choice, but it still made me feel bad. When I told him how I felt, he just stared back at me blankly. There was no compassion for my guilt just a nonchalant "OK". His reaction reminded me of his lack of comforting skills. Sometimes his stoicism makes me feel unloved and apprehensive about our future together. He does not always react the way he did last night, but when he does it is like a dagger in my chest.

Tubes of Smoke

Last night I dreamt that I went home to Tujunga. The hills were still on fire and I could smell smoke in the air. I let myself into the house and walked to my room: the room I was born in, the room I keep returning to. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around. My mother was standing there talking to me, but I could barely hear her. She sounded like she was under water. Minutes passed as I looked at her and tried desperately to decipher her words by reading her lips when my father appeared in the doorway. He tried to talk to me, too. He realized quickly that I could not understand him either, so impatiently he pointed in my direction. I looked behind me, but nothing was there. Then I returned my gaze on the both of them and they both nodded "no" and then pointed directly at my chest. When I looked down everything finally registered: all over my body tubes were sticking out. Shocked and terrified, I immediately started ripping them out of my body. The tubes crashed to the ground splashing my bodily goo all over my old bed. I wanted to cry and scream, but no tears nor words came out. I looked at my parents pleadingly. They returned my gaze with compassionate frowns and then coerced me to sit on the bed. Smoke started to fill the room in huge plumes and I just laid there waiting for the flames to find me and take me away.

Metal Mood

They were lined up out back pacing with needles propped in their hands. Quick tugs on the rubber bands around their chubby arms, the prick, and then the plunge of skinny metal into their veins. I watched the rotund mannish women's eyes roll back into their heads in unison and I cringed. I tried to look away to the palm trees piercing the plumes of smokey clouds in the night sky. All I could think was "Los Angeles".

I closed my eyes as the wind kissed my cheeks. When my eyes sprung open again I saw my aunt talking about dying as she was living. Apparently, her last hospital visit tipped over her usual confidence and she couldn't help but wonder when her last hand would be dealt. This made me sad and so I left without a response.

In the room that followed my friend was sitting on a bench and beckoned me to sit beside him. Something made me hesitate or rather someone else's voice made me turn around. My old roommate was standing a few feet away. My stomach lurched. I blinked and she was still there, so I said her name and even though my feelings were not clear I apologized to her. She tried to force a smile. I tried to as well. She began to talk in order to fill in the gap of silence that lived between us. I wished for ear plugs.

She yammered on and I tuned her out and focused on my sense of smell. I smelled Europe: the mixture of time, diesel, cheese, cappuccino, and aged water. As the shadows stretched the scents were sent more body. I breathed in and coughed. Soon I was strolling alongside a canal and pondering the nuances of communication through silence.

By myself into the unknown I felt trepidation and exhilaration. Outside of my dream realm I still feel this way and often wonder "What is a life well lived? Should apologies, drugs, and the concept of death come together in one night? Should they penetrate so deep that the heart has no option, but to pump faster?".