Feb. 26th, 2009

fortunavirilis: (Default)
Most nights I have grown up dreams... work and chores and pain and sickness- the daily worries of my life. Sometimes my dreams are worse... monsters and running and bad memories of a past best left where it was dropped and scattered. But every once in a great while, I get to have little girl dreams and I'm never sure of what they are until it is almost too late to appreciate them- childish and girly and vain and barely worth admitting to in public except to say that yes, even I have these moments in sleep, at my most defenseless.

The sky was bright blue with puffy white clouds, no hint of rain. I saw everything as though a photographer and yet I knew I was her as well, half of the reason they were all here. The trees in the orchard were full and just starting to turn to autumn hues. Beyond the slightly broken down stone fences, the fields were golden with autumn wheat and beyond the woods surrounded everything. To the right- the orchard. To the left, through a opening in the stone fence and ancient farmhouse, stone and crumbling, beautiful blue with quartz veins gleaming and light hitting glass in the late afternoon light. Between the two- rows of chairs covered in off-white satin and gossamer bows. But no one is sitting now. The ceremony is over. No one is standing under the flower-laden bower... white mums, ruby red roses, pale green lillies. People mill over the farm tables that run the length of the closest wall full of the bounty of the local areas harvest. Everyone wants a treat, but doesn't want to ruin their afternoon finery. Yet, no one is shy- they no each other well and there is so much love to go around. The love radiates like a hot summer day even as the sun lowers still cooling the air full of warm chatter and birdsong. I've lost sight of her, and then- there she is just beyond the wall to the farmhouse all aglow, his arms around her, not a care as to whether she gets leaves on her flowing white dress. She leans back laughing holding her veil on so it doesn't fall off, he kisses her neck. Click goes the camera. And I wake up in a cold room to a slicing headache.

Our day was lovely in real life- small, but lovely. But every once in a while I have dreams, glimses really, of perfect momemts of perfect days I never had- silly, little girl dreams I have absolutely no control over. And I have no idea why I'm sharing this one. But here you go.

5 Things

Feb. 26th, 2009 02:44 pm
fortunavirilis: (Thoughful)
So there's this meme: Comment to this post and I will give you 5 subjects/things I associate you with. Then post this in your LJ and elaborate on the subjects given.

From shadesong:

1. Your brain:
I've always associated myself with my brain. I am my father's child and we are a brainy lot, not a beautiful bunch (or so I thought about myself). I've always thought my skill have been to see where things map together- to see the connections between all the data. And now, those connections, within my brain and the ability to see them, are slipping and it is so difficult to reconcile. But I just want to understand it all. Still. I have a (ir)rational desire to be a neuroscientist, to solve it all for everyone. To see how it all fits. I want to understand how my own brain works so I can map it back together and see how they all map together- all the little fractal pieces back in harmony.
2. IFMUD, if that' where you met T.? Is it?
We didn't meet with IFMUD actually. We met in college on the East Coast. I'd say I was a very damaged college freshman who had just escaped an unsafe home. And I'll let T describe his own state at the time. But I was also open with my emotions in a way that I probably haven't been since then. I made a number of friends that I still keep in touch with loosely and still miss intensely because I didn't have any walls left to put up, they had all fallen away as I broke that year (due to my childhood traumas) and I let each person into my 'family'. And over the years I've built some news walls that I wish I hadn't. It has made it harder in the friend department. Ultimately T and I helped each other in our own ways and also hurt each other deeply. But I miss him in so many ways because he's such a special person on his own quest in life.
3. Dogs,
I will probably never have children. Genetically it is a bad idea with some conditions on both sides that we have a likelihood to pass on. And I don't have the energy level to care for a child the way that I would like to raise one. So it would not be fair. It just wouldn't. It is as simple as that. If you asked me a few years ago, I would have said I would never want one, but that isn't true now. Now I regret feeling like the choice was made for me. And part of that was my dogs. One has epilepsy- like me only tonic clonic. So she's a window of what I might become. And the other has intevetebral disc disease. So we have to carry her up and down the stairs- our own beagle bowling ball. But I adore them. They were both pound puppies and I would do anything it took to take care of them. I chose to adopt them and now they are my responsibility. It is as simple as that. And there are days where they are more comfort than any humans could be. My dopey dog and the danger beagle.
4. Music
My teenage years were spent listening to probably the same music my parents listened to as teenagers- the Beatles, Cream, Mountain, The Rolling Stones, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan (and yes, all on lp) plus show tunes. I loves show tunes morning noon and night. College introduced They Might Be Giants and a wealth of the obscure (Stew, Forest for the Trees, prizes for those than can name more!). Our bar music du jour was Ben Fold Five (4/2- Ben Folds!!!). But the songs the really stuck were from Aimee Mann- every note hit home with me. Since then I've somehow become a punk, I think I'm rebelling against myself and all my limitations and also am in love with people mixing celtic sounds with other things because my eastern european jewish family came to the states by way of Ireland and that appeals to me (let me tell you about my great uncle the IRA gun runner they deported to Israel- seriously!)- so lots of Flogging Molly (3/6!!!!) and Great Big Sea with old school punk thrown in. And when I'm down I still love Aimee and Tori. The only musical overlap Hu and I have is Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I have no idea how that works (much better now with two ipods).
5. Cooking!
I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with this- write about not eating for years, write about how I hate chicken soup, but love roast chicken. No- all of those are true, but wrong for this. Here's the truth- I think cooking is alchemy. Cooking is magic. Cooking is an act of passion, of true love. When you cook for someone, you can take something that was covered in dirt and blood and turn it into something sensual and beautiful. Cooking creates objects that involve all of the senses. Cooking is trans-formative, but is also ephemeral. No two meals should be exactly alike. I cook, but I never write my recipes down. I don't want to. I want to capture the essence of a meal, but the ingredients will never be exactly like that day- so the meal won't be either. My favorite chefs know this and have menus centered around specials. Perfect food is about being fresh, seasonal, of the moment in both the ingredients and the mind of the chef. There is no perfection in cooking because each palate is different- both the chef and the person eating. That being said- I think my perfect LIFE would be to have a house up north (paid for of course) where I could serve meals for up to six with my own organic garden veggies, herbs, and cheese, and local farm raised lamb and other meats from up the road with after dinner entertainment from area singers and writers- oh and don't forget the coffee (but someone else would have to bake, because that's too precise for my style).


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