Wednesday July 23, 2003: imperial, mysterious, in amorous array
I'm running right now, trying to catch up. Somehow, I managed to schedule the next few weekends completely solid, with this weekend being a particularly stellar example of wall-to-wall stuff--party Friday night, hiking Saturday morning, date, Saturday afternoon/evening, blueberry picking on Sunday morning, and cleaning on Sunday afternoon.
Fortunately, I do have time for cleaning in there, as my house is a pit. I forget what it's like, to be this busy.
It's been hot, and I have been melting. Just so you know.
And as for the Lavender Festival...
Chris and I got up early, I ran over to pick him up, and we went and got on the Bainbridge ferry. Got to Bainbridge, went to Sequim, me chattering all the way because I had coffee and was therefore chipper and bouncy. And, evidently, chirpy.
"What do you MEAN, chirpy? Am I chirpy any other times?"
"Sometimes. More lately. You get chirpy when you're happy."
Great. I'm *chirpy*. TWEET.
So we went out to Purple Haze Farm, which was much fun. There was lavender lemonade, and fields of the HUGE lavender plants. It smelled like what I think heaven would smell like--outdoorsy, perfumed with flowers. There were crafts, and mustard and honey. The weather was absolutely perfect--warm and not too sunny.
We got a bus back to Sequim from the farm, and decided lunch was in order. We both got sandwiches, and then I went and fetched ice cream for the two of us--he got lavender cheesecake-flavored ice cream, and I got honey lavender ice cream.
oh.
my.
god.
It was SO GOOD. I about fainted upon my first bite. Just the right amount of sweetness, extremely rich, just a hint of lavender. The flavors played subtly off of each other. I barely finished two-thirds of my scoop and let Chris finish the rest, it was that rich.
We then went and looked at crafts at the craft fair. I bought a bunch of stuff, including a bag to replace the quilted bag I've been carrying around forever which is falling apart, and some handmade paper for book covers/collages.
Chris and I were getting along excellently well, probably the first such instance of such effortless getting along that we've had in months. I was just...happy. Happy to be alive, happy it was summer, happy to be in a place that smelled so delightful, happy to be with such wonderful company, just happy happy happy.
After the craft fair, we decided energy levels were a bit low and it was time to split. Drove to the ferry in Kingston, got there at 3:03 as they were loading for the 3:10 ferry, got on the 3:10 ferry. couldn't have timed it any better if we'd tried.
The wind was luscious on the upper deck of the ferry. It was warm enough to stand in it and just *feel*.
We went to dinner in Lynnwood, to my house and rented videos to watch. We snuggled and watched and talked a bunch about a lot of things. There's some stuff about trust in there, and about how there are very few people who are able to sense when i'm about to panic about something in time to do something about it. There's stuff to think on, I think, though I haven't really come to any conclusions yet.
It was a really wonderful day. It reminded me how much I love this area, and how much I love the way my life is going right now. I remember, now, why I still live here after everything that has happened to me here. I am hopelessly in love with the Pacific Northwest, perfectly smitten with everything this area is.
It honestly doesn't get much better than this.
Jadine's pictures of July 4th are here!
A few highlights:
...as a Western theme plays, I prepare for battle.
Water battle is joined!
Ray and Bryan duke it out.
The aftermath. I am very wet.
Me and Laura, with croquet mallets. (and Greg off to the side.)
Greg, Graham, and I ponder the imponderables of Extreme Croquet.
I'm really not certain what was so funny...
"Yo, is it my turn?"
I actually wasn't intentionally posing here.
I am doing a lot of reading, and some writing. My office has been warm enough in the afternoons that I haven't really been working on any art.
However, I did finish a new poem.
thirteen truths about Gemma
*
You are almost like a secret concealed within me.
A secret walking around bold as brass.
A secret revealing itself with every motion of your hands towards me.
A secret.
*
I meet you
and I can feel your skin glowing silver,
your waxing body rising within your clothes.
Tonight, the moon is a thin crescent setting in the trees.
*
I should not tell you how my breath is caught
on the edges of every woman who resembles you
in the slightest way.
It is as if your knife sliced all these women
from the air that once held them.
*
I am writing a letter
to you
in sepia ink
that I will burn
in fifteen years
still lacking the courage to send it
and postage rates have nearly tripled since then
*
You are a language
spoken only by scholars
and the insane.
You are the secret name
of the silent river
that runs beneath the skin.
*
In the darkness
all whispers are intimate
even those no one hears.
*
Because you belong
to the world and I
belong only to myself.
Because you are the toothed sun
and I am the loping moon
and when we touch all the shadows
of leaves on the sidewalk
become crescent-shaped and strange.
*
I remember
blood on snow
I remember
poppies unfurling
I remember
your voice at my throat
you slid into me
sweeter than opium's kiss.
*
the world is rich and complicated
where you move and breathe
carved from ivory you wait
for the return
*
I like to think of you odalisque
in the long grass, your body stretched
and your crystal eyes turned
to the blind luckless sky.
*
How I love you is not about
the known map of holding you
how I love you is about
the unknown map of letting you go.
*
I am learning ancient characters
so I can paint them on your skin.
I will write poetry in dead languages
on your shoulders.
I will breathe my Apache name
onto your neck, hidden
by your hair.
*
Night in the arid hills east
of the mountains. The stars
have forgotten you
but the wind never will.
--7.22.03
I had my first perfectly ripe blackberry of the summer the other night on a walk that took me father than I thought I would go, when the long summer dusk was falling and the wind off the water brought me the voices of the local waterfowl.
These are the things that make summer for me. The alive world surrounding me, marching on.
Fortunately, I do have time for cleaning in there, as my house is a pit. I forget what it's like, to be this busy.
It's been hot, and I have been melting. Just so you know.
And as for the Lavender Festival...
Chris and I got up early, I ran over to pick him up, and we went and got on the Bainbridge ferry. Got to Bainbridge, went to Sequim, me chattering all the way because I had coffee and was therefore chipper and bouncy. And, evidently, chirpy.
"What do you MEAN, chirpy? Am I chirpy any other times?"
"Sometimes. More lately. You get chirpy when you're happy."
Great. I'm *chirpy*. TWEET.
So we went out to Purple Haze Farm, which was much fun. There was lavender lemonade, and fields of the HUGE lavender plants. It smelled like what I think heaven would smell like--outdoorsy, perfumed with flowers. There were crafts, and mustard and honey. The weather was absolutely perfect--warm and not too sunny.
We got a bus back to Sequim from the farm, and decided lunch was in order. We both got sandwiches, and then I went and fetched ice cream for the two of us--he got lavender cheesecake-flavored ice cream, and I got honey lavender ice cream.
oh.
my.
god.
It was SO GOOD. I about fainted upon my first bite. Just the right amount of sweetness, extremely rich, just a hint of lavender. The flavors played subtly off of each other. I barely finished two-thirds of my scoop and let Chris finish the rest, it was that rich.
We then went and looked at crafts at the craft fair. I bought a bunch of stuff, including a bag to replace the quilted bag I've been carrying around forever which is falling apart, and some handmade paper for book covers/collages.
Chris and I were getting along excellently well, probably the first such instance of such effortless getting along that we've had in months. I was just...happy. Happy to be alive, happy it was summer, happy to be in a place that smelled so delightful, happy to be with such wonderful company, just happy happy happy.
After the craft fair, we decided energy levels were a bit low and it was time to split. Drove to the ferry in Kingston, got there at 3:03 as they were loading for the 3:10 ferry, got on the 3:10 ferry. couldn't have timed it any better if we'd tried.
The wind was luscious on the upper deck of the ferry. It was warm enough to stand in it and just *feel*.
We went to dinner in Lynnwood, to my house and rented videos to watch. We snuggled and watched and talked a bunch about a lot of things. There's some stuff about trust in there, and about how there are very few people who are able to sense when i'm about to panic about something in time to do something about it. There's stuff to think on, I think, though I haven't really come to any conclusions yet.
It was a really wonderful day. It reminded me how much I love this area, and how much I love the way my life is going right now. I remember, now, why I still live here after everything that has happened to me here. I am hopelessly in love with the Pacific Northwest, perfectly smitten with everything this area is.
It honestly doesn't get much better than this.
Jadine's pictures of July 4th are here!
A few highlights:
...as a Western theme plays, I prepare for battle.
Water battle is joined!
Ray and Bryan duke it out.
The aftermath. I am very wet.
Me and Laura, with croquet mallets. (and Greg off to the side.)
Greg, Graham, and I ponder the imponderables of Extreme Croquet.
I'm really not certain what was so funny...
"Yo, is it my turn?"
I actually wasn't intentionally posing here.
I am doing a lot of reading, and some writing. My office has been warm enough in the afternoons that I haven't really been working on any art.
However, I did finish a new poem.
thirteen truths about Gemma
*
You are almost like a secret concealed within me.
A secret walking around bold as brass.
A secret revealing itself with every motion of your hands towards me.
A secret.
*
I meet you
and I can feel your skin glowing silver,
your waxing body rising within your clothes.
Tonight, the moon is a thin crescent setting in the trees.
*
I should not tell you how my breath is caught
on the edges of every woman who resembles you
in the slightest way.
It is as if your knife sliced all these women
from the air that once held them.
*
I am writing a letter
to you
in sepia ink
that I will burn
in fifteen years
still lacking the courage to send it
and postage rates have nearly tripled since then
*
You are a language
spoken only by scholars
and the insane.
You are the secret name
of the silent river
that runs beneath the skin.
*
In the darkness
all whispers are intimate
even those no one hears.
*
Because you belong
to the world and I
belong only to myself.
Because you are the toothed sun
and I am the loping moon
and when we touch all the shadows
of leaves on the sidewalk
become crescent-shaped and strange.
*
I remember
blood on snow
I remember
poppies unfurling
I remember
your voice at my throat
you slid into me
sweeter than opium's kiss.
*
the world is rich and complicated
where you move and breathe
carved from ivory you wait
for the return
*
I like to think of you odalisque
in the long grass, your body stretched
and your crystal eyes turned
to the blind luckless sky.
*
How I love you is not about
the known map of holding you
how I love you is about
the unknown map of letting you go.
*
I am learning ancient characters
so I can paint them on your skin.
I will write poetry in dead languages
on your shoulders.
I will breathe my Apache name
onto your neck, hidden
by your hair.
*
Night in the arid hills east
of the mountains. The stars
have forgotten you
but the wind never will.
--7.22.03
I had my first perfectly ripe blackberry of the summer the other night on a walk that took me father than I thought I would go, when the long summer dusk was falling and the wind off the water brought me the voices of the local waterfowl.
These are the things that make summer for me. The alive world surrounding me, marching on.
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