the in between

Do you know the time just before dawn when the walls are still painted in the gray of fading night? Repeatedly I wake in that moment, with the dreams still real: lips of a phantom lover still warm and wet on mine; houses lurching over a gaping sink hole sliding into a blue-green abyss; ghosts from childhood walking away from me while I scream unheard; and the sound of smooth warm laughter from my friends and family still in my ears.

At times, this is the most real and aware I am. That in between moment of consciousness where reality stirs and tastes whats beneath the surface. It isn’t always pleasant. Actually, the nightmares linger longer, just as a bruise leaves a mark and a caress doesn’t show its self.

This slow spring has been a long in between. Warm, cold, snow, rain, bright sun. My body and spirit has responded in kind. I’m nothing if not a creature of my surroundings. And I’m exhausted with its lack of decision. Now it’s time for my waking dreams to take hold. I want them to stop scurrying away in the light of day. The need to express themselves in the black and white that is the blood of these things.

In short, that is the reason for the change.

Holiday

It’s hailing in Florence now. Now being after Easter, after holiday, after the exhaustion that is always a part of getting out of the routine. Getaways are good; better with central heating, but good.

I woke up at San Momme in the Apennines this morning to 3 inches of snow. Beautiful, white, fluffy snow. Tree laden snow. The kind of snow I’ve not seen in 15 years or so. It was still dark when I first saw it. Early that evening I heard an owl. Everything about this trip evoked the past. Vienna, Mentone, cold, owl, crisp, wood burning evenings. Meals that make all others slightly bland. Wines. Boar. Hiking 7 kilometers up and down and up a mountain again in the rain, with inappropriate shoes. It was lovely. Unfortunately, it was also very damp and cold. I came home a day early (and hopefully not too late) to avoid getting sick.

But my skin is glowing, I don’t have circles under my eyes; spiritually I feel great. Physically, perhaps I need a hot totty, soaky bath, and a massage.  Deep down it was good for me. Nothing like visiting my old self after a few decades.

Happy belated Easter. Oh, and how the windows rumble with the storm.

(Pictures to follow maybe tomorrow.)

sweet spring break at last

There has been huge gaping holes of presence here. Not just here, but I’ve been absence from almost everyone’s blog of late. Sorry for that. Working tons, on the run, and occasionally napping like some sleep deprived crazed caffeine addicted fiend. And now this. I’m leaving for the Apennines tomorrow and will be out of internet for a few days. Really sorry, but I think the catching up on sleep and eating “slow food” and tasting local wines and olive oils and hiking in the chilly air is a wee bit more important to my soul right now.But know that I’ll be back. Better and stronger and with clarity of thought and a will to write that will overwhelm and amaze. OK, maybe not. But I’ll do my best to come back and share. With pics of course.Happy Spring, Good Friday, Easter, and all the other little moments we should be celebrating!!! 

festa della donna

I’m late.

And very rushed. So, in lieu of words, here are some pictures of one mimosa tree near my apartment. Mimosa is what you give the ladies in your life. Turn back your inner clock and pretend it is March 8th.

Mimosa

George Elmore is an idiot

And to prove that he is, in fact, an idiot, here is a link to his opinion piece regarding libraries.

http://www.gainesvillesun.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080303/OPINION03/803030303

I can’t even begin to rant about how wrong this is. If you find yourself agreeing with him, please make your way to a public library and observe. I think you’ll figure it out. Hopefully someone (perhaps a librarian) will point Mr. Elmore in the right direction and prod a few brain cells into action.

Spring cleaning

Mopping, sorting, scrubbing, hanging laundry on the line — all of this with doors open and a breeze coming through bringing the sounds of birds chirping. Oh how I love a Monday. It will be harder to post the more and more the weather lures me outside.

But I do have some projects that will keep me around the computer. No, I’m not talking about playing scrabble online (though that does make me linger too much) but just some writing in general. It’s much like spring cleaning, but with memory. Yes, I seem to hit a streak of remembering things and am trying to unpack them on paper.

But wouldn’t it be nice to clean everything: let loose all the baggage of the past, sort and organize all the harms of the current political situation, leave economic worries by the dumpster; you know, a general scrubbing of life to give it a rosy complexion and healthy glow? Oh how I wish that for all of us.

Wishing only gets you so far. So, pick what you can and clean it, even if it is just the kitchen sink.