In my snow globe life, the centerpiece is a breathtaking Japanese Cherry Blossom tree in the prime of its bloom. Small white flowers, dozens and dozens of them. White with pink middles. The bark is dark brown, and the trunk and branches are thin. It is a beautiful scene.
Surrounding the Cherry Blossom, open books rest on the ground. Some are in piles, others are solitary. These are the book of my past and present. Children's books, teen fiction, the classics, my autobiography. They tell the story of my life thus far. They are the blank books of my future, ready to be filled.
Go ahead. Pick up my life and shake it.
Little crescent moons float and swirl around the tree and fall upon the open books. The little moons are silver and blue with little smiling faces.
entry: 7 October 2009
Never in my life have I seen anything more beautiful and pure than the full moon.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Gypsy Tales
"There was always been this memory in my head. It couldn't have happened in my current lifetime; it must be a memory from a past life. I will tell it to you now. Try not to be frightened. But do forgive me, children, my memory is not what it used to be."
The old woman sat in the rocking chair with an afghan throw covering her lap and legs. The three little children, two girls and a boy, set cross-legged in front of her, admiring the blanket and listening in awe. the woman began her story.
"The surrounding buildings look like Grecian architecture. All of the stone columns and ivy growing up the sides. It was a very pretty place full of green grass and hedge gardens. There was also a pond in the garden with strangely large fish. I was not alone in this place. There were a dozen other little girls like me. Yes, I am your age in this memory. Each little girl was paired with a witch. It was a magical place, but these were nice witches, not like the wicked witch of the west. All the witches were wearing the traditional black pointy hat and swooping cape.
"My witch and I flew kites and fished in the pond with the other little girls and their witches. I believe I had a balloon and carried it with me the whole day.
"I must have let go of my balloon on accident because it got stuck in one of the big garden hedges. Oh, wait a minute. Was it my balloon or was it my kite? The details are fuzzy. Anyways, my witch went into the hedge to retrieve my balloon, but she got stuck and died right there. I didn't know what to do. I was only a little girl. All the other witches were angry and blamed me for my witch's death. I felt very confused and alone. No one listened when I tried to tell them it wasn't my fault!"
The story ended and the children looked bewildered. The old woman sat back in her rocker, please that another of her gypsy stories satisfied the young ones for the evening. They went off to sleep without another peep. The old gypsy woman say with her afghan in her chair and smiled.
The gypsy woman's story is a dream I had when I was four years old. The dream is permanently stained in my memory. I can still see the images and little details in my brain.
entry: 6 October 2009
The old woman sat in the rocking chair with an afghan throw covering her lap and legs. The three little children, two girls and a boy, set cross-legged in front of her, admiring the blanket and listening in awe. the woman began her story.
"The surrounding buildings look like Grecian architecture. All of the stone columns and ivy growing up the sides. It was a very pretty place full of green grass and hedge gardens. There was also a pond in the garden with strangely large fish. I was not alone in this place. There were a dozen other little girls like me. Yes, I am your age in this memory. Each little girl was paired with a witch. It was a magical place, but these were nice witches, not like the wicked witch of the west. All the witches were wearing the traditional black pointy hat and swooping cape.
"My witch and I flew kites and fished in the pond with the other little girls and their witches. I believe I had a balloon and carried it with me the whole day.
"I must have let go of my balloon on accident because it got stuck in one of the big garden hedges. Oh, wait a minute. Was it my balloon or was it my kite? The details are fuzzy. Anyways, my witch went into the hedge to retrieve my balloon, but she got stuck and died right there. I didn't know what to do. I was only a little girl. All the other witches were angry and blamed me for my witch's death. I felt very confused and alone. No one listened when I tried to tell them it wasn't my fault!"
The story ended and the children looked bewildered. The old woman sat back in her rocker, please that another of her gypsy stories satisfied the young ones for the evening. They went off to sleep without another peep. The old gypsy woman say with her afghan in her chair and smiled.
The gypsy woman's story is a dream I had when I was four years old. The dream is permanently stained in my memory. I can still see the images and little details in my brain.
entry: 6 October 2009
My Life in Flames: A Dream
note: this is the fourth very vivid dream I've had about Billie Joe Armstrong/Green Day. In these dreams, Billie Joe is there in person and there is interaction between us always.
I was waiting outside my house with my friend Catherine. There was no indication of what we were waiting for. Billie Joe showed up in a van. I twas Billie Joe himself, but he was more of a teenager, like in the Dookie days. Catherine took lots of pictures of us.
The next scene, Catherine was gone. Billie Joe was still in my house but not with me - I could still feel his presence. I was awoken from my sleep by a very loud crack. My windows were open, and the noise came from outside. I got up to look out my window. I saw the house at the end corner of the street. It was summer, but there were Christmas lights on one of the hedges in front of the house. The loud crack was the sound of one of the light bulbs breaking.
The hedge caught fire from the electricity.
The fire was small, but soon the whole house was burning. Somehow the fire traveled in a line, like gunpowder or gasoline in a movie, up the street to my house. I was trying to tell my mom our house was on fire. She wasn't listening. The fire was getting closer as I stared out my window. I was so scared.
All of a sudden, my mom yelled for us to get out of the house. Everyone went outside quickly, but I was frantically gathering stuff in my room that I wanted to keep safe. The most important thin was my American Idiot CD. I grabbed it and ran outside. I was screaming because I didn't want my room to be burned and ruined.
By this point, our whole house was on fire. Billie Joe was outside with us. He was trying to hold me back and calm me down. I was shaking with anger and screaming and crying. I think I was blaming my mom for not listening to me and letting this happen.
entry: 2 October 2009
I was waiting outside my house with my friend Catherine. There was no indication of what we were waiting for. Billie Joe showed up in a van. I twas Billie Joe himself, but he was more of a teenager, like in the Dookie days. Catherine took lots of pictures of us.
The next scene, Catherine was gone. Billie Joe was still in my house but not with me - I could still feel his presence. I was awoken from my sleep by a very loud crack. My windows were open, and the noise came from outside. I got up to look out my window. I saw the house at the end corner of the street. It was summer, but there were Christmas lights on one of the hedges in front of the house. The loud crack was the sound of one of the light bulbs breaking.
The hedge caught fire from the electricity.
The fire was small, but soon the whole house was burning. Somehow the fire traveled in a line, like gunpowder or gasoline in a movie, up the street to my house. I was trying to tell my mom our house was on fire. She wasn't listening. The fire was getting closer as I stared out my window. I was so scared.
All of a sudden, my mom yelled for us to get out of the house. Everyone went outside quickly, but I was frantically gathering stuff in my room that I wanted to keep safe. The most important thin was my American Idiot CD. I grabbed it and ran outside. I was screaming because I didn't want my room to be burned and ruined.
By this point, our whole house was on fire. Billie Joe was outside with us. He was trying to hold me back and calm me down. I was shaking with anger and screaming and crying. I think I was blaming my mom for not listening to me and letting this happen.
entry: 2 October 2009
What Am I Inspired By?
people who have a lot of self-motivation. that is one thing I am severely lacking.
the color green. it is bright and beautiful and full of life. trees are green, and trees are wonderful.
dancers. "are we human or are we dancers?" - the killers. I always sit in awe at my friends' dance recitals. watching the difficult steps being performed with ease. I know the work it took to get to that point, and I appreciate the talent.
Jackson Pollock. american artist. creator of some of the most beautiful, mysterious art I've ever seen. splatter paint. mixed colors. dramatic canvases.
the moon holds me captive.
Billie Joe Armstrong. his past, where he came from, how he got here. No one knows Green Day like I know Green Day, at least no one I've met so far.
Fairies. fantastical creatures. delicate and cunning. you had better watch your back.
the month of October inspires me. all things to do with autumn inspire me. pumpkins and folklore. transformations. change.
Hairstyles of the Damned. Joe Meno. the best young adult fiction novel I have ever read.
the vastness of space. We, as humans, do not and will never comprehend how infinitesimal we are on our planet Earth.
the voice of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to know what peace is about...
flowers. a vague statement, but there are so many flowers in so many situations that I cannot possibly narrow it down to one phrase. just the word.
confident smiles. not the egotistical "I'm better than you" smiles. the ones on the faces of
the Rocky Mountains. Mt. Evans. Colorado. breathing cool, clean air. feeling on top of the world. literally being on top of the world.
entry: 28 September 2009
the color green. it is bright and beautiful and full of life. trees are green, and trees are wonderful.
dancers. "are we human or are we dancers?" - the killers. I always sit in awe at my friends' dance recitals. watching the difficult steps being performed with ease. I know the work it took to get to that point, and I appreciate the talent.
Jackson Pollock. american artist. creator of some of the most beautiful, mysterious art I've ever seen. splatter paint. mixed colors. dramatic canvases.
the moon holds me captive.
Billie Joe Armstrong. his past, where he came from, how he got here. No one knows Green Day like I know Green Day, at least no one I've met so far.
Fairies. fantastical creatures. delicate and cunning. you had better watch your back.
the month of October inspires me. all things to do with autumn inspire me. pumpkins and folklore. transformations. change.
Hairstyles of the Damned. Joe Meno. the best young adult fiction novel I have ever read.
the vastness of space. We, as humans, do not and will never comprehend how infinitesimal we are on our planet Earth.
the voice of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. to know what peace is about...
flowers. a vague statement, but there are so many flowers in so many situations that I cannot possibly narrow it down to one phrase. just the word.
confident smiles. not the egotistical "I'm better than you" smiles. the ones on the faces of
the Rocky Mountains. Mt. Evans. Colorado. breathing cool, clean air. feeling on top of the world. literally being on top of the world.
entry: 28 September 2009
Monday, January 18, 2010
Lucid Dreams
The following is the scariest dream I've had that I can remember. I rarely have nightmares, so this was quite frightening.
In my dream, I woke up suddenly. I have a fountain-type thing that mists and changes colors from red, purple, blue. When I woke, it was giving off a purple light but wasn't misting.
My blinds were up - they are usually down when I sleep because my bedroom windows face the street, and I don't want anyone to be able to watch me sleep.
There was a man outside my window, but his hand was someone through the glass of the window, which was closed, and he was playing with the beads hanging in the front of the window.
I was extremely scared, and I yelled at him to go away.
I don't know if I went back to sleep or if I just closed my eyes.
For the second time, I woke up suddenly. I got out of my bed and opened my bedroom door. There was a purple light, similar to the one from the misting thing, coming from down the hallway.
The man was sitting right outside my door. His face and his body were in a shadow, so I didn't know who he was. He was holding a flashlight.
I called loudly for my mom and yelled at him again to go away. My screams were desperate, and I felt like I was sobbing. I wasn't crying, but I was terrified.
My mom came out of her room, but the man was gone.
Even as I write, that horrible feeling of terror is still inside of me. I've never been that scared from a dream, besides perhaps when I was a child.
However terrifying this dream was, the experience of a lucid (waking) dream is one I'll never forget. The feeling of actually being awake in a dream was so bizarre. I hope to have another one somewhere in the future.
Entry: 24 September 2009
In my dream, I woke up suddenly. I have a fountain-type thing that mists and changes colors from red, purple, blue. When I woke, it was giving off a purple light but wasn't misting.
My blinds were up - they are usually down when I sleep because my bedroom windows face the street, and I don't want anyone to be able to watch me sleep.
There was a man outside my window, but his hand was someone through the glass of the window, which was closed, and he was playing with the beads hanging in the front of the window.
I was extremely scared, and I yelled at him to go away.
I don't know if I went back to sleep or if I just closed my eyes.
For the second time, I woke up suddenly. I got out of my bed and opened my bedroom door. There was a purple light, similar to the one from the misting thing, coming from down the hallway.
The man was sitting right outside my door. His face and his body were in a shadow, so I didn't know who he was. He was holding a flashlight.
I called loudly for my mom and yelled at him again to go away. My screams were desperate, and I felt like I was sobbing. I wasn't crying, but I was terrified.
My mom came out of her room, but the man was gone.
Even as I write, that horrible feeling of terror is still inside of me. I've never been that scared from a dream, besides perhaps when I was a child.
However terrifying this dream was, the experience of a lucid (waking) dream is one I'll never forget. The feeling of actually being awake in a dream was so bizarre. I hope to have another one somewhere in the future.
Entry: 24 September 2009
bananaberries.
Think of a person, someone you know or not, and write about what you think they dream about. These are the dreams of my beloved and insane sister.
Dream One:
Two apples, one orange, and five bazillion bananas.
Each fruit beings to peal itself like a boxer takes off his robe, ready to fight.
Barely audible, someone is singing what sounds like "We Are the Champions."
Shelbi and Carla stumble into the scene. One of the bananas screams at them because they are laughing too loudly.
Dream Two:
My sister is driving me around. We are going to Target like we usually do.
Now I am driving the car. I don't know how this happened. I somehow know how to drive. We are no longer going to Target. We are going to puck up my mom from the airport. she is coming home from London.
I'm in the airport by myself now. I don't know where everyone else went. Mon and Sissy were just right here. I'm getting dizzy because I'm turning around in circles. I don't remember where we parked the car.
Dream Three:
In reality: my sister came in here ten minutes ago and woke me up.
In my dream: All my clothes were already laid out on y bed. I grabbed my socks and unfolded them. I tried to find my foot, but it was very difficult for some reason. My first sock is finally on my foot. Now where did my other one go? Oh, here it is. I'm sitting on it. I don't want to get up. I'm so comfy. I think I'll just change shirts under my covers. There my shirt is on and I'm already halfway finished getting dressed.
In reality: I actually didn't wake up. My sister came back ten minutes later, called me an idiot, and told me to get up again. I was lying there still in my pajamas.
entry: 17 September 2009
Dream One:
Two apples, one orange, and five bazillion bananas.
Each fruit beings to peal itself like a boxer takes off his robe, ready to fight.
Barely audible, someone is singing what sounds like "We Are the Champions."
Shelbi and Carla stumble into the scene. One of the bananas screams at them because they are laughing too loudly.
Dream Two:
My sister is driving me around. We are going to Target like we usually do.
Now I am driving the car. I don't know how this happened. I somehow know how to drive. We are no longer going to Target. We are going to puck up my mom from the airport. she is coming home from London.
I'm in the airport by myself now. I don't know where everyone else went. Mon and Sissy were just right here. I'm getting dizzy because I'm turning around in circles. I don't remember where we parked the car.
Dream Three:
In reality: my sister came in here ten minutes ago and woke me up.
In my dream: All my clothes were already laid out on y bed. I grabbed my socks and unfolded them. I tried to find my foot, but it was very difficult for some reason. My first sock is finally on my foot. Now where did my other one go? Oh, here it is. I'm sitting on it. I don't want to get up. I'm so comfy. I think I'll just change shirts under my covers. There my shirt is on and I'm already halfway finished getting dressed.
In reality: I actually didn't wake up. My sister came back ten minutes later, called me an idiot, and told me to get up again. I was lying there still in my pajamas.
entry: 17 September 2009
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Nana's Story
She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled. The box was filled with little sugary candies, the kind her nana used to give her. The box was made of tin worn down by frequent use. Inside the lid was a picture of her nana. She was alone now, so she clutched the little box and slid it out of her pocket. She squeezed the side a little to open the lit. The tiny photograph of her nana looked at her with a warm smile. Her nana was a beautiful lady. The expression in her eyes was so inviting as if to say, "Lilly, darling, take a candy." Lilly took a candy, unwrapped it from it's colored plastic, and put it into her mouth.
entry: 9 september 2009
entry: 9 september 2009
dustland fairytale.
Two of my loves are Robin Hood and Peter Pan. There is just something about their characters that fascinates me. The only thing is that the Disney figures are pictured in my mind. I'm not sure if that is a good or a bad thing seeing hos Disney has a tendency to alter the truth about a lot of subjects.
If I were to choose between the love interests of these two gentlemen, I would definitely choose Maid Marian over Wendy. Maid Marian is more classy and mature. I've never been a fan of Wendy. STOP WHINING. You don't get all of Peter's attention all of the time.
Me as Maid Marian with my gallant love, Robin Hood. That's a nice picture. We would be foxes too, just like in the Disney movie. However, this is not a sexual fantasy. That's just weird.
So why is it that I think so highly of Robin Hood and Peter Pan?
The valor and bravery
They exude. Fight for
The good of innocence.
The history and folklore behind Robin Hood's tale also fascinates me.
"Appox on the Phony King of England!"
Was Robin Hood a good guy or a bad guy?
Does Peter Pan really need to grow up?
They both just do what they think is best.
"Robin Hood and Little John
Walking through the forest
Laughin back an' forth
At what they other'ne had to say
Reminiscin' this-n-thattin
Havin such a good time
Oh-de-lally, Oh-de-lally
Golly, what a day"
entry: 8 september 2009
If I were to choose between the love interests of these two gentlemen, I would definitely choose Maid Marian over Wendy. Maid Marian is more classy and mature. I've never been a fan of Wendy. STOP WHINING. You don't get all of Peter's attention all of the time.
Me as Maid Marian with my gallant love, Robin Hood. That's a nice picture. We would be foxes too, just like in the Disney movie. However, this is not a sexual fantasy. That's just weird.
So why is it that I think so highly of Robin Hood and Peter Pan?
The valor and bravery
They exude. Fight for
The good of innocence.
The history and folklore behind Robin Hood's tale also fascinates me.
"Appox on the Phony King of England!"
Was Robin Hood a good guy or a bad guy?
Does Peter Pan really need to grow up?
They both just do what they think is best.
"Robin Hood and Little John
Walking through the forest
Laughin back an' forth
At what they other'ne had to say
Reminiscin' this-n-thattin
Havin such a good time
Oh-de-lally, Oh-de-lally
Golly, what a day"
entry: 8 september 2009
pumpkin jack.
On this night of all hallows' eve, the earth transforms. The dead are once again alive.
It is about this time of year, the beginning of September, that my anticipation for Halloween begins. This holiday has always been my favorite. Halloween is the climax of the fall season. The golden, red, and brown leaves litter the earth, leaving the trees bare and life-less. The breeze is cool, and I need a jacket when I go out. the sky seems not so bright like it did during the summer. Life is changing.
On the first of the wonderful month of October, I am allowed to put up our Halloween decorations, well, the pumpkins at least. I always have a mind to put the decorations up when the weather becomes cooler in September, but my mom just calls me ridiculous.
We have some of the best decorations. First of all, they are stored in this antique, big, black trunk in our basement. My mom has had the trunk for a very long time. It has an incredibly distinct smell that always makes me happy inside because the smell means - IT'S HALLOWEEN! It's a stale smell, like most old artifacts, only there is a tinge of sweet also. The black trunk is split into layers, separated a removable shelf. Place mats, witch cloaks, and orange light bulbs are on the removable shelf. Beneath are the sacred ceramic pumpkins. My mom has been collecting ceramic pumpkins since before I was born. We have one pumpkin with a black top hat that is over 50 years old. DO NOT DROP THIS - always the warning when handling the pumpkin. It is my duty to arrange the ceramic pumpkins with the bale of straw on our front porch. Well, it's more like I don't let anyone else do it because I like it so much.
My family has other Halloween traditions besides the ceramic pumpkins. Every year we carve our own jack-o-lanterns. With our kitchen floor covered in newspapers, we scoop the guts our and saw faces into the pumpkins. Halloween is also my sister's birthday. We eat cake and celebrate before going out for the night.
Ah, Halloween is just so wonderful. So many of these memories and images come to mind, and I just smile with content.
entry: 3 september 2009
It is about this time of year, the beginning of September, that my anticipation for Halloween begins. This holiday has always been my favorite. Halloween is the climax of the fall season. The golden, red, and brown leaves litter the earth, leaving the trees bare and life-less. The breeze is cool, and I need a jacket when I go out. the sky seems not so bright like it did during the summer. Life is changing.
On the first of the wonderful month of October, I am allowed to put up our Halloween decorations, well, the pumpkins at least. I always have a mind to put the decorations up when the weather becomes cooler in September, but my mom just calls me ridiculous.
We have some of the best decorations. First of all, they are stored in this antique, big, black trunk in our basement. My mom has had the trunk for a very long time. It has an incredibly distinct smell that always makes me happy inside because the smell means - IT'S HALLOWEEN! It's a stale smell, like most old artifacts, only there is a tinge of sweet also. The black trunk is split into layers, separated a removable shelf. Place mats, witch cloaks, and orange light bulbs are on the removable shelf. Beneath are the sacred ceramic pumpkins. My mom has been collecting ceramic pumpkins since before I was born. We have one pumpkin with a black top hat that is over 50 years old. DO NOT DROP THIS - always the warning when handling the pumpkin. It is my duty to arrange the ceramic pumpkins with the bale of straw on our front porch. Well, it's more like I don't let anyone else do it because I like it so much.
My family has other Halloween traditions besides the ceramic pumpkins. Every year we carve our own jack-o-lanterns. With our kitchen floor covered in newspapers, we scoop the guts our and saw faces into the pumpkins. Halloween is also my sister's birthday. We eat cake and celebrate before going out for the night.
Ah, Halloween is just so wonderful. So many of these memories and images come to mind, and I just smile with content.
entry: 3 september 2009
Live in the Shadow of a Dozen Roses
Make a list of places where writing hides for you. Be specific.
- ginger pumpkin scented candles
- a good hug (you know, one of those you receive from a best friend you haven't seen in two years...coughAARONcough)
- inside jokes about bananas (a reoccurring motif in the lives of my sister and me)
- the moon and the stars
- music. all different types. right now I'm pretty sure it's The Beatles.
- my dreams. this is an important one. I keep a dream journal if that tells you anything.
- the smell of incense. fizzy pop incense. from sunshine day dream imports. the hippie store. where I bought my purse/bag. it's wonderful there.
- the vibrant color of green plants beneath flowing water. the picture I took at Trout Lodge comes to mind.
- the abstract, splatter-technique paintings of Jackson Pollock.
- the smell of autumn. of halloween. brisk, dry air. the trunk of decorations in our basement. carving pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns. all of these smells.
- the shape, color, texture of blown glass. actually seeing being crafted. the awe of a child in Hannibal.
- mysterious fairy rings, made of mushrooms and darkened grass, appearing in my front yard.
- Henry David Thoreau. I read Walden last summer and was delighted by the experience. I came across quite a few phrases that struck me. I wrote them down. One is, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."
- In the place of beige ceramic tiles, pomegranate mango soap suds, and skin hydration. the shower.
entry: 31 august 2009
- ginger pumpkin scented candles
- a good hug (you know, one of those you receive from a best friend you haven't seen in two years...coughAARONcough)
- inside jokes about bananas (a reoccurring motif in the lives of my sister and me)
- the moon and the stars
- music. all different types. right now I'm pretty sure it's The Beatles.
- my dreams. this is an important one. I keep a dream journal if that tells you anything.
- the smell of incense. fizzy pop incense. from sunshine day dream imports. the hippie store. where I bought my purse/bag. it's wonderful there.
- the vibrant color of green plants beneath flowing water. the picture I took at Trout Lodge comes to mind.
- the abstract, splatter-technique paintings of Jackson Pollock.
- the smell of autumn. of halloween. brisk, dry air. the trunk of decorations in our basement. carving pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns. all of these smells.
- the shape, color, texture of blown glass. actually seeing being crafted. the awe of a child in Hannibal.
- mysterious fairy rings, made of mushrooms and darkened grass, appearing in my front yard.
- Henry David Thoreau. I read Walden last summer and was delighted by the experience. I came across quite a few phrases that struck me. I wrote them down. One is, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."
- In the place of beige ceramic tiles, pomegranate mango soap suds, and skin hydration. the shower.
entry: 31 august 2009
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