Beaming, I’m Dreaming.

I stood stock-still for a moment just as I came through the door tonight, bundles of belongings under one arm and tired-streaked countenance beaming a reflection of the perfect moonlight through the atrium of Le Chateau. Danny told me in not so many words to try this out sometime, by his good example. I didn’t have to think about this one, as it was right in front of me – the only greeting in a house full of natural darkness, pierced by layers of windows beyond windows as I follow my glance through the labyrinthine hallways to the shadowy ends of the house beyond. I tried to embed this moment in a time capsule of sorts; nothing complicated or too consuming, but just a vision that I could own for longer than a few seconds this time. I’m envious of the way in which he seems to log everything in his life, magical or mundane, to pull out at a later date when time is less constrictive and there’s a moment to reflect on things that happened last week, last month, last year. Endless journals, recollections, and stories. And me, I enjoyed brushing my teeth this morning…I think. Fuck it, might as well start remembering now. I realize that I’m in love with that forgotten texture, that misplaced memory of a luscious taste. I just knew I liked it once, however long ago.

But the moonlight tonight is perfect, and I’m not going to forget this one. How often within the auroral city do those effulgent beams bound through hall and kitchen, illuminating the struggling plant-life displayed in their polygonal courtyard? The perfect chiaroscuro playfulness of broom handle and garden hose break up the line and order of beam and gutter; all color is drained from every surface – the moon makes it all shades of luminous gray, reflected in ghostly composition upon the windows surrounding this pageant. I had to retrace my steps when I almost missed this on the first pass – how could I have missed this? How dare I miss this?

So tonight I stared for just a moment, just before softly stepping the parquet gauntlet of squeaks and creaks to the back room, past sleeping roommate and hungry feline, the latter eyeing me suspiciously upon entrance to his domain. How dare I miss this, he says within a silent, one-eyed blink. I love coming home to this house and its panoramic vistas just waiting patiently to be honored – there are so many. The moonlight compelled me to words tonight, after a brief check of mail and a square of chocolate. It bade me to consider its place in my life perhaps longer than it would have before Danny’s soft, chewy New York pretzel made me realize all the things I’ve forgotten. In my rush to live wide-eyed every second, I often forget to hold happy memories close, and to relive them daily. How aware can we be? How good is your memory?

Tonight, mine is Forever. Tonight, the moonlight is bright enough to make my tea by, unfettered by foggy cumulus or sodium street lamp. It’s a bit difficult to navigate the strange angles of our hallways, but I trust its cynosure escort and its beams will lead me to dreams.


13 Responses to “Beaming, I’m Dreaming.”

  1. dichroicynosure Says:
    February 10th, 2006 at 5:18 am

    forget the exotic and dive into the familiar
    It is endearing to read how well you inhabit your space–the mundane becomes pure magick under your tender pen (but then again, your home is pure magick). Ahhh IGR moon!!

  2. FunkyPlaid Says:
    February 12th, 2006 at 11:20 pm

    Re: forget the exotic and dive into the familiar
    I often have desires to clone myself so I can spend each waking day and late night in each and every room in the house, all at the same time. I want to see it from different angles, and sometimes I walk around and just look.
    We'll do that when you're around next. Just look.

  3. lunesse Says:
    February 10th, 2006 at 10:04 am

    mmmmm that was wonderful. the moon was here in Oregon, too, it made me stop and watch my backyard for a full five minutes.

  4. FunkyPlaid Says:
    February 12th, 2006 at 11:21 pm

    I was told with great certainly that there is no moon in Oregon. You must be mistaken – it's clearly a ruse!

  5. thistlelurid Says:
    February 10th, 2006 at 10:36 am

    wonderful….guiltless consumerism…how could I NOT justify
    collecting every single one? B'eirth is popping up everywhere…
    I even thought I saw him at the Blixa show last week!
    mmmm pretzel.

  6. FunkyPlaid Says:
    February 12th, 2006 at 11:23 pm

    I'm sending you the mp3s of Full Flower Moon. I don't have any of the others, but I've heard snippets of some of the artists; none of which are as solid as IGR.

  7. dirtbaby Says:
    February 10th, 2006 at 11:05 am

    The moom makes the wolf in me come out. D, like you, I get to enrapped in life to remember the moments most of the time, but, also like you, when these moments do happen, I brand them into my memory for use later. These moments have become more frequent since the wolfpups took over. I will lend you one – when your 2 year old son holds your face in his little hands, looking into your eyes with unbridled love and say," I love you so much, dada."

  8. FunkyPlaid Says:
    February 12th, 2006 at 11:26 pm

    As always, your familial visions are splendid. Just the other day I saw one half of your litter, and I'm astounded at the resemblance. Absolutely beautiful, and it was great to see Yma, as well.
    I'm often afraid that all this memory-branding will never be realized. Like endless books purchased and put on the shelf to one day pore over…but they might never get to be enjoyed. Clearly, I'm an anxious freak about everything – I even worry about being able to remember stuff that I enjoyed actually doing in real life.
    I love getting older. The neuroses never stop!

  9. scothen_krau Says:
    February 10th, 2006 at 3:17 pm

    Strangely enough, I was also contemplating the moon the other night, while onboard the ferry to Marin. I couldn't get this one thought out of my head: "240,000 miles isn't really that far…"

  10. FunkyPlaid Says:
    February 12th, 2006 at 11:28 pm

    I wonder if we'll see colonization or tourism in our lifetimes.

  11. jacesan Says:
    February 10th, 2006 at 4:16 pm

    Your home kicks ass. More because of the people that inhabit it than anything else. 🙂

  12. FunkyPlaid Says:
    February 12th, 2006 at 11:29 pm

    That's really kind of you to say. We love the house quite a bit, regardless of our infrequent gatherings of good people there. We really should do it more – we certainly have the room.

  13. Anonymous Says:
    February 11th, 2006 at 7:25 pm

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    I'm here to promote a community for fans of <lj comm="Devics">. I'm sending this message to everyone who has Devics on their interests. Please consider this as an invitation and not as spam. Please join if you like Devics. =)

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