I added a dozen more limbs to my dead tree project.
I thought about making a fake bird nest to perch inside it. I didn’t want to buy an artificial one.
Today, I made a quick getaway at work to walk down to the creek. I’m lucky to be so close to such a place of serenity.
On the Appleby bridge above Scull creek, I found a perfectly-preserved nest in the road. That it hadn’t been damaged by traffic was a surprise. I took it inside with me and brought it home.
As I painted tiles this afternoon, I painted the nest a vivid blue, which is rapidly becoming my favorite decorative color. I gave silent thanks to the birds that spent countless hours carefully constructing it. Their loss will become a part of my art project. It fits perfectly with the theme of bringing something dead back to life.
It’s odd that yesterday afternoon I was thinking about what to make a bird’s nest from. And voila, magic, one appeared in a place that it had no reason to be. (“Voila” is actually two words in French, meaning to ‘look there.’ I’m glad I did.)
I am still amazed that things just appear in my life when I’m not looking. There’s hope for me yet.
Don’t be confused by the door in the background. That’s how my pixie/fairy gets into the apartment. It’s not a full-size door.
I dreamed such vivid dreams last night. I’m not sure what fueled them.
Even Barb, Mike’s mom, made an appearance. She woke me up, laughing. She reminded me that I once thought 4 a.m. or 5 a.m. was early. She worked hard and one of her jobs started incredibly early. It was my ‘job’ that summer to get up and go to Mike’s to be with him and his brother after she left for work. In my dream, she handed me a cup of coffee and sat and talked to me. She’s been gone for almost seven years. Over forty have passed since that summer I was paid to babysit my best friend.
I dreamed of Jimmy and Noah. Time has skipped fifteen years somehow. i posted this clip because it starts with Jimmy’s infamous laugh. If Noah inherited anything, I hope it’s that.
Moats around castles and fortresses served to deter easy direct attack. A lot of people don’t know that they also served to collapse any potential underground tunneling. Bruce Lee often preached for people to be like water: fluid, yet immensely and and inexorably powerful. Water is the most patient and universal substance on Earth. Another thing most people don’t know is that the tide doesn’t actually go in and out. It is actually the Earth rotating into the bulge of water created by the moon’s gravitational force. During a full moon, the higher tide is created by the sun’s gravitational force following along the line opposite the Moon.
I don’t have a metaphor or a life lesson to tie this up neatly.
I want to start a new trend: high-fiving people when I’m sad upset or angry. That way after I die, people who miss me will look really effing rude talking about me. .
I don’t know if my dead tree project will ever be finished. I continue to add new painted limbs and branches to it. It’s currently standing in my extra room. I rescued the dead base of the tree from the woodpile near where I found the baby shower box a couple of weeks ago. The little branches I’ve added are from some of my favorite spots along the trail and near the hospital, so it’s a well-traveled creation. I love the idea of it in part because it’s something made from discarded and desiccated remains. That I can add an infinite number of pieces to it, all rendered in luminescent color makes me happy.
The day contains the same elements of any other day. It can be a repeat of the familiar. It can also be an anomalous remix, both familiar and strangely new. Like freshly-sliced jalapeños on vanilla bean ice cream.
For fans of both Merle Haggard and Survivor, I ask you to search for “Survivor and Merle Haggard – Eye of the Haggard.” It’s an example of juxtaposing two things that should not work together but somehow do. Musically, it’s a masterful bit of wild production and melody.
In other news, I don’t like to watch baseball. Albert Pujols joined Babe Ruth as a 600 HR hitter and a pitcher. I love it when anything interesting happens in baseball. It joins bowling and golf as two sports that are like watching my hair dry. Yes, all 11 of them.
I’m looking at the new day with the eye of a tiger and the pancreas of a hyena. (That joke might be a little too esoteric.)
Before I leave for work, I will turn off the light in the room with the dead tree project. The colors will fade to the eye until the sun washes through the window and illuminates it.
It will have its day in the sun.
I hope each of you does too.
My cat will jump up to the windowsill multiple times during the day. I added extra-wide sills to all my windows so that both he and the few plants I have can enjoy the second-floor view and light.
It’s what Mondays are made for, though most of us begrudgingly wake up groggy-eyed and unready for the presumptive start of the workweek. If you’re going to spend 20% of your work-life experiencing Mondays, you might as well find a new perspective to enjoy them.
Take the pieces that don’t work and refresh them. Remix and enjoy.
In my new life I have countless stolen moments. Both in the late night and in the early morning. Whatever lies next and unseen in the path of my life, I know that these moments will scatter and disperse and become less frequent. I call them lemon moments because they are pungent and sour, but also fill my mouth and heart with delicious taste. A mouth of lemon provides a bite.
As I sit here on the deck drinking a bitterly delicious first cup of coffee, the wind occasionally lifts flotsam that’s been carelessly left outside or deliberately discarded. The lightning and thunder grows closer and the wind increasingly grows in intensity. I can hear raindrops begin to drum on the waiting vehicles. The insects are roaring and providing background melody.
Yesterday, I returned to the creek. Its water had subsided as the flood receded into the past. The water was still cool and refreshing. A single snake slithered across the causeway and into the upper stream above it. A man hollered down to me, warning me of snakes in the water. “Yes, I know.” As if they didn’t belong there and that I were not the interloper into their world. Snakes may bite when startled. It is nothing personal. I wish I could remember that when their human equivalent surprises me with their hurtful way of navigating life.
If I come across as introspective or pensive it is because I am. But I’ve smiled like a fool multiple times this morning. As the fire trucks and police raced past me to a developing emergency, as the wind gusted and spit rain on me, as my cat resisted capture and darted away from me, and as I looked at the bottle lights and my art-filled fence vaguely lit seventy feet away.
I love these early mornings. Projects and activity are waiting for me. I think of Taoism. It is supposed to teach us the lesson of action through inaction. To allow the natural process of life to cascade around us and envelop us. We of course resist, wanting it to unfold in the way that we think is most beneficial to us. Most of us don’t appreciate the lemon moments when they happen.
The news and the world will always disappoint us. It has always been that way. People falsely believe that the good old days aren’t constantly renewed. If you’re wired for pessimism you will find justification. Optimism is knowing that your life is homogeneous and filled with both delights and disappointments. The trick of this dance is to remember to look for the things that light you up or give you a smile and to look away from the things that don’t.
When I took a picture of the bottle light, it was rendered in white. I had to filter the noise to reveal the color. That’s either metaphorical or practical.
As the thunder races and a lightning bolt illuminates the upper reaches of the sky, I am sitting here with myself and my thoughts.
I will stand up and break the spell in a minute.
For now, I look at my cat whose silhouette is comically backlit by one of my bottle lights. He meows at me, asking me for something I can’t decipher.
I can’t decipher myself sometimes. And I love it that way.
Welcome to Sunday y’all.
The minutes are falling away and the day will start whether you want it to or not.
My dinosaur Redactyl found a cigarette butt on the ground. I don’t know how he picked it up. Now the problem is that his tiny arms won’t reach his mouth to light it!
He says the forecast today is hot with a very small chance of rain.
He has learned a lot more Latin. He told me that today’s phrase is: “Vincit qui se vincit.” I already knew that one. It means, “… He conquers who conquers himself.”
The older lady in the pink shirt was walking with her husband. I could see it on her face, the reprimand approaching. She did not appreciate me having fun by the trail.
I said good morning.
She scowled and did that “ack” sound.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” Her voice was crawling with derision.
I replied in gibberish, as if I were speaking a foreign language. Although I thought it was impossible, her face became even more ugly with disapproval.
Because I’ve seen them on the trail several times, I know they will return this way in 15 or 20 minutes.
So, I pulled out my trusty stick of chalk and wrote this:
“Dear Pink Shirt Lady… I’m grateful that I’m happy. And sad that you’re not.”
I can only imagine the consternation and the infinite acking noises she will emit when she sees my chalk-scawled message.
“Today is like the surprise fries in the bottom of the bag. Find your fries.” – X
It’s only four but I’ve already been able to experience several sights, sounds, and surprises. Beauty is where you find it. I woke up to it.
I stopped to chalk up the sidewalk. I watched the moon above and listened to the bullfrogs croak and sing in their singular deep voices.
I also finally remembered to stop and take a picture of the tank car on the corner of Gregg Avenue.
At my doorstep was a pretty coffee cup, a clear one, filled with fresh flowers. I suspect it was from a neighbor repaying a surprise I left them yesterday afternoon. I can’t be sure which neighbor, as I surprised more than one.
I went out to the fence and added several tiles and painted cross boards, all filled with color. It amused me to imagine someone seeing me with tools and spray paint, possibly wondering if suspicious activity were afoot. Yes, art, if that is suspicious at that hour. I’ve been busy doing other projects, but I’ve taken a little time each day to add something to the fence. In time, perhaps I’ll have the entire expanse filled with color and shapes. I’m not sure what it will look like when I’m finished. If I’m ever finished.
It’s Friday the 13th and so far, no ill omens to deter my day.
I’m off work. Because the water has subsided, I wanted to soak my feet in the cold water and walk down the middle of the creek. I can’t describe how refreshing it is, or to hear the water cascade. I was reminded to watch the tangled branches on the creek side a little more closely. I walked right up on this little fellow with his head poking out of the water. There are a few snakes sunning on one side of the creek. If they’re floating down the creek, I just remain motionless and watch them pass. It is beautiful in here! The access walk is still flooded, so most people will not get their feet wet, much less like I do and take my shoes and socks off. I have the entire creek to myself except for the snakes and turtles – and the unseen birds singing in the trees and brush. It’s hard to worry about life with all this around me. I will walk back up the creek, moving my feet along the bottom to find purchase, in a few minutes. I hate to break the reverie of this moment!
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 