an image diary
"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"
"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."
"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."
Thursday, May 10, 2007
. . . .
Can you tell the difference, I wonder, by looking? Here is the first of the not-film images. The quality of light, the saturation of color? And something in the blurring of focus? But these may be comments from the sidelines where I'm still scratching my head over the manual. When I get on the playing field, will you know? Will you tell me?
Still dark this morning, still the full lit white face of the clock above the office building a block over and the traffic light beyond it fixed at red. The trees are full too and the street lights in that direction are only visible in their halos of new green leaves.
I must leave in an hour to start another crazy day.
Instead of writing a committee report, I planted pots full of aloe from my mother's pot of overflowing aloe. Mary will sit an aloe garden this year. H pulled the old pot of hanging geraniums from the eaves a few days ago and I cleared it of dead leaves yesterday to make room for planting. In it, I found a tiny bird's nest, wintered over, long abandoned. All that work, and where have they gone to? I didn't know they were ever here.
Spring Mind says such things: "All this work and just where do you think you can get to?" But Spring Mind is a restless sort too. The wanderlust is setting in already, however much I want to be close to home. This home.
***
Spring Mind: "How do you know you believe?"
***
&.
***
"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"
[contact me: ghostwordeffigy@yahoo.com]
so she set to work
what o'clock it is
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