Slept deeply, then would wake for a while, then deeply again. Pain is bothering me again today, rather sharply and into my headache. I have faith, though, that a resolution is in sight. Not sure what that is, but I’m up for it. Something, make it stop! I could cry sometimes it hurts so badly. But I’m not a big crier.
Boy that piece of pumpkin pie in the middle of the night sure hit the spot. Yeah!
Such a lovely day, it could be Spring turning, but the mind, or the gut? knows it is Fall turning. Boy won, with peachy cords and peach tee, the origami coat, soft brown clogs. Very surreal today in and out of the pain and the state of real.
Hope to sing today. Radiohead on the IPod when I couldn’t sleep last night and this morning for bathies. A bit harshly beautiful. Several alters came up, responded, so I let them listen, they dug and hung out before we all felt the need to sleep again. This morning I sang along and the voice was there, ready, so maybe we can record if there is time. Jason said, if there’s time, he’ll set up the Imac with the Motu again. Yay! Progress.
We plan to decorate for Christmas on Sunday. I dreamed the other night that I put all of our Christmas CDs in a pile one by one. Have started having flashbacks about Christmas old time from growing up a few days ago. Gold-green themed purity years, making things with my sister Claire, baking. So far that is all. I don’t push it. They come on their own. Pretty painful but less so as the years go. We make new memories and traditions as we can each year.
Yesterday morning, it not only smelled of bacon, but of a thousand feasts of turkey and whatnot being baked, and woodsmoke. YUM. Today has a similar Sunday quiet to it, a strange specialness and people are extra nice. That sense that if only, if only people could be so nice all year round. Buddha says.
I chose The Hunter in the Forest by Neruda for Rebekah’s Closet instead. I think that may be my very favorite poem of his. That’s saying a lot. I also wrote a bit about why the jungle and deep forest are so symbolic and personal for me in the nemoir/movel.
So I was thinking of doing a pastel version of Belize: Sandbore Caye, in rusts and pinks and ochres. I opened the largest image I have of it in Photoshop just now and put her on her side. I tried sketching her and got something else. We shall see what I end up with ultimately. I was also thinking of something fiery/flamey/flowery/shells. That’s a lot of imagery to convey. The colors can do that on their own, without my help.
For now I have to rest, in a lot of pain. Argh. Call it a day, at 1:15. Neruda, and oh, it’s not Dylan Thomas I have but Seamus Heaney, Apologies, to both!