Latex, velvet sheen
Apr. 5th, 2004 11:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xaaraI have paint in my hair and paint in my ears and paint in the seam between two floorboards where my brother decided to startle me when I was holding a brush, causing me to drop a huge dollop of bright blue paint on the floor. Three of my four walls are sky blue (the real rich cobalt color of the sky, not that washed-out dingy grey that paint stores label sky blue.) The smell of Murphy's Oil-Soap and fresh paint permeates the house. I feel like dancing. I think I'm in love.
I don't know if that means I'm in love with someone, or with something, or with life. I just know that I'm happy, immensely happy, like one of the characters in a fairy tale. If someone called me right now, I'd be on the phone with him or her for an hour, singing, being silly, quizzing him or her on random facts. If someone proposed to me right now, I'd accept. If I died right now, I'd be perfectly content.
My room looks like a little piece of the sky dropped in through the window and settled on the walls. Even though the room's a mess and smells sharp and artificial, when the blind is up and the window is open I feel like I'm outside under the arc of the sky rather than trapped between four walls in a brick house smashed against another, identical, structure.
This afternoon, as I painted, I turned on my music and sang along with Aida, and then Carmen, thinking that maybe if I sang loud enough, the birds would hear and sing along. The robins are back, and the mockingbirds, and the finches. Yesterday I saw a cardinal with his life-mate, searching for a place to nest. There are squirrels everywhere, frisking up and down tree trunks, and the deer are nibbling at the edges of the community garden. Rabbits hop across the backyard occasionally, and when it rains, earthworms litter the sidewalk.
I love music. I love life. I love spring.
I don't know if that means I'm in love with someone, or with something, or with life. I just know that I'm happy, immensely happy, like one of the characters in a fairy tale. If someone called me right now, I'd be on the phone with him or her for an hour, singing, being silly, quizzing him or her on random facts. If someone proposed to me right now, I'd accept. If I died right now, I'd be perfectly content.
My room looks like a little piece of the sky dropped in through the window and settled on the walls. Even though the room's a mess and smells sharp and artificial, when the blind is up and the window is open I feel like I'm outside under the arc of the sky rather than trapped between four walls in a brick house smashed against another, identical, structure.
This afternoon, as I painted, I turned on my music and sang along with Aida, and then Carmen, thinking that maybe if I sang loud enough, the birds would hear and sing along. The robins are back, and the mockingbirds, and the finches. Yesterday I saw a cardinal with his life-mate, searching for a place to nest. There are squirrels everywhere, frisking up and down tree trunks, and the deer are nibbling at the edges of the community garden. Rabbits hop across the backyard occasionally, and when it rains, earthworms litter the sidewalk.
I love music. I love life. I love spring.
