Friday, February 22, 2008

drink . dance . breathe . dream


Woke this morning in that place half here, half dreaming. For a moment had this faint sense my breathing was actually boat oars rowing me through a slowly trembling body of water. I was the boat, the oars, the water, the dream. When I breathed well, I moved along with the rhythm and pattern of the oars--jutted across the water. It was so beautiful. When I barely breathed, I stopped, floated; maybe even drifted (aimlessly). All a bit mystical, like a fog lifting over something deep.

Does this happen to you; you see something so amazing on the inner places, like you found something. Secret. Delicious. Beyond description or knowing? Half-awake, half aware in dreams
have been writing inside a book, or making a new art, or seeing amazing architecture... images. You go groggy to paper to put it down, and its all stuck. Crumbled. Daylight erases the inner life and you stand there half naked, alive. Awake.
More at TUMBLEWORD's other site. Steven Wright

Hope for a wonderful, productive, relaxing weekend to all!.


Mary-Laure said...

I love those red hues. When I want to have fun, I wear a pair of read shoes...

Esti said...

It happens to me all the time. I dream of beautiful pieces of art, far more prettier of those I manage to put on paper or canvas. Sniff...
Beautiful words... as usual.

Marie-Louise said...

I like the dreaming time, it feels almost real for me and I am happy for that.

Slimbolala said...

Yes, beautiful reds. I puzzled over the first one: a glass of wine?

Janet said...

I paint, but I could never paint my dreams, they are secret and best kept in my head. I used to go to a meditation class where the teacher used to scribble and make marks while meditating. For some reason it used to make me very angry and bring up some real issues. I can never convey well enough those images thoughts you talk about so I leave them there.

mansuetude said...

Janet~ i wouldn't be able to meditate with someone like that either! Had a Shakespear teacher who would read to us and stop, write notes to himself, read to us, stop, write in the book of Hamlet,.etc. He made me furious with his self indulgence.

Mary Laure~ red shoes are so symbolic to life!

Esti, marie-louise~ keep dreaming; I think it keeps the world happier for all of us.

slimbolala~yes, a glass of wine; shadows in it; i see a number 1.