The car, which drove so smoothly for my parents and sister, growled beneath me. It was as if it sensed my inexperience and wanted to flaunt it. Every tap of the pedal sent the car jolting and my turns were either too sharp or too slow.
Despair: I don’t want to do this!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Clinging To Morning Mist
The familiar heat swept through me
as our tongues danced.
My first kiss, when I was a little girl
everything became sharper, solid
as a nail through a butterflies wing.
Gradually that faded and now, going through the motions
he’s as fleeting and noticeable as
dissolving morning mist.
Passion is a poor substitute for affection
but we all need someone
to distract us from being alone,
which is what ultimately we are.
I peek under my lashes and see
the face of all my lovers --
he could be anyone.
as our tongues danced.
My first kiss, when I was a little girl
everything became sharper, solid
as a nail through a butterflies wing.
Gradually that faded and now, going through the motions
he’s as fleeting and noticeable as
dissolving morning mist.
Passion is a poor substitute for affection
but we all need someone
to distract us from being alone,
which is what ultimately we are.
I peek under my lashes and see
the face of all my lovers --
he could be anyone.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Waltzing in the Clouds
One two-three, one two-three I moved my feet in rhythm to the loud waltz music which was swallowed by the well-lit auditorium. It was a basic waltz square, but as a follower (that is, the dancer who follows) without a partner I wasn’t sure if I was stepping correctly. After several fruitless glances at the surrounding couples (most of whom were in more trouble than I) I subtly studied the graceful movements of the couple to my left. The young man was pale with crisp black hair and clothes, and he expertly led his current partner, an older woman with long gray hair and a friendly face, in a perfect waltz square. Their motions were fluid and beautiful -- this was the type of dancer I wanted to be.
Abruptly, I noticed that my steps were incorrect -- right foot then left. I sighed internally. Me, with two left feet, a graceful dancer? Well, a girl can dream.
“All right, I think it’s about time for a partner change,” our instructor’s voice announced through the speaker system. Leaders and followers exchanged thanks for the pleasant dance, then leaders shifted to their right. I now had a partner -- the dancer whose movements I’d just been admiring.
His features were sharp, his dark eyes framed by long black lashes, but the touch which he used to guide me was surprisingly light. We began with the basic square, and despite the occasional toe collision, we danced rather well. Our movement improved as I became accustomed to the feel of him, until it took only a nudge to send me gliding in the right direction. Our progress -- or, rather, his incredible skills as a leader -- delighted me.
“This is great!” I murmured exuberantly as he flawlessly transitioned us into another step we’d learned. Though momentarily distracted by my feet, I still heard his reply.
“I’m glad you think so,” he agreed with a mild grin. The frame of his arms straightened and relaxed as the teacher passed by. Then he grimaced.
“Ugh,” he muttered, “I’d be so much better if I was more awake. I’m barely alive,” he added, his eyelids drooping. I shook him playfully.
“So I’m dancing with a zombie? Psh, that’s okay. I have enough energy for both of us!” I added with an emphasizing grin. An answering smile tugged at his lips and finally escaped in a chuckle.
We danced impeccably for a quiet span. “You should try it with your eyes closed,” he suggested as he turned me into another position and we continued dipping across the floor.
“It feels wonderful, like you’re flying in the clouds,” he urged. Never before had I trusted my feet enough to lose sight of my surroundings, but I felt fairly safe with him. Obediently, my lids descended.
Though I could no longer see it, my body continued its swirling motion with a grace I couldn’t have accomplished on my own. He changed my position, and though I’d done the step a hundred times, this time I ran into his foot, and my eyes shot open.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, blushing.
“Don’t apologize,” he lightly replied, shrugging off my incompetency. I was grateful for that. The instructor’s voice interrupted our discourse.
“There’s another part of waltz...” she began, and proceeded to demonstrate the new step. She divided the class into leaders and followers, and after a few individual practices told us to pair up again. Grinning, I went immediately to my previous partner. He looked amused at my obvious preference for his company.
“This time,” he murmured as we moved into position, “don’t open your eyes for anything. Anything. No matter what happens.” I couldn’t imagine what he thought might happen, but something about the proposition thrilled me. Eyes closed, I let the words enter my heart, and we began to dance.
We stepped and a sweet serenity washed into me. We seemed to glide like ice on oiled glass, and the movement was so silky my mind soon drifted until it disappeared, sunk into a sea of cloud. It was like forgetting, losing who I was, but at the same time something made me whole. He was right -- it was like being in the clouds, though not quite flying. It was too slow, to smooth for flying. This felt like swimming, floating on a sea of cloud, a sea of color, pastel pink and blue and green. Gravity and friction forgotten, all I could feel was the gentle pressure of his hands, and the peculiarly delightful way which air seemed to flow through me rather than around me.
“Dancing is like breathing,” I hummed, cocooned in a lullaby of cloud.
It seemed strange when we halted, and it took me a second to realize the song was over. Still, I did not open my eyes -- this moment was too sweet to end. Yet, as with all good dreams of color and cloud, it did finish; but that was okay because I had not lost something wonderful -- I’d gained something beautiful.
I smiled up at my partner, the man who’d shared a taste of grace, that illustrious wine which I so rarely sipped. “Thank you,” I whispered, and finding no ready adjective to completely describe the experience, I contented myself with smiling joyfully.
“Yes, well, I am amazing...” he replied with a smug smile.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I teased. “Though you are amazing,” I added.
“Have we switched recently? Switch partners!” the teacher instructed.
We bowed our heads to each other. “Thank you for the dance,” his formal words were belied by his charmed tone.
“Thank you,” I answered with a flourish in his direction.
Abruptly, I noticed that my steps were incorrect -- right foot then left. I sighed internally. Me, with two left feet, a graceful dancer? Well, a girl can dream.
“All right, I think it’s about time for a partner change,” our instructor’s voice announced through the speaker system. Leaders and followers exchanged thanks for the pleasant dance, then leaders shifted to their right. I now had a partner -- the dancer whose movements I’d just been admiring.
His features were sharp, his dark eyes framed by long black lashes, but the touch which he used to guide me was surprisingly light. We began with the basic square, and despite the occasional toe collision, we danced rather well. Our movement improved as I became accustomed to the feel of him, until it took only a nudge to send me gliding in the right direction. Our progress -- or, rather, his incredible skills as a leader -- delighted me.
“This is great!” I murmured exuberantly as he flawlessly transitioned us into another step we’d learned. Though momentarily distracted by my feet, I still heard his reply.
“I’m glad you think so,” he agreed with a mild grin. The frame of his arms straightened and relaxed as the teacher passed by. Then he grimaced.
“Ugh,” he muttered, “I’d be so much better if I was more awake. I’m barely alive,” he added, his eyelids drooping. I shook him playfully.
“So I’m dancing with a zombie? Psh, that’s okay. I have enough energy for both of us!” I added with an emphasizing grin. An answering smile tugged at his lips and finally escaped in a chuckle.
We danced impeccably for a quiet span. “You should try it with your eyes closed,” he suggested as he turned me into another position and we continued dipping across the floor.
“It feels wonderful, like you’re flying in the clouds,” he urged. Never before had I trusted my feet enough to lose sight of my surroundings, but I felt fairly safe with him. Obediently, my lids descended.
Though I could no longer see it, my body continued its swirling motion with a grace I couldn’t have accomplished on my own. He changed my position, and though I’d done the step a hundred times, this time I ran into his foot, and my eyes shot open.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, blushing.
“Don’t apologize,” he lightly replied, shrugging off my incompetency. I was grateful for that. The instructor’s voice interrupted our discourse.
“There’s another part of waltz...” she began, and proceeded to demonstrate the new step. She divided the class into leaders and followers, and after a few individual practices told us to pair up again. Grinning, I went immediately to my previous partner. He looked amused at my obvious preference for his company.
“This time,” he murmured as we moved into position, “don’t open your eyes for anything. Anything. No matter what happens.” I couldn’t imagine what he thought might happen, but something about the proposition thrilled me. Eyes closed, I let the words enter my heart, and we began to dance.
We stepped and a sweet serenity washed into me. We seemed to glide like ice on oiled glass, and the movement was so silky my mind soon drifted until it disappeared, sunk into a sea of cloud. It was like forgetting, losing who I was, but at the same time something made me whole. He was right -- it was like being in the clouds, though not quite flying. It was too slow, to smooth for flying. This felt like swimming, floating on a sea of cloud, a sea of color, pastel pink and blue and green. Gravity and friction forgotten, all I could feel was the gentle pressure of his hands, and the peculiarly delightful way which air seemed to flow through me rather than around me.
“Dancing is like breathing,” I hummed, cocooned in a lullaby of cloud.
It seemed strange when we halted, and it took me a second to realize the song was over. Still, I did not open my eyes -- this moment was too sweet to end. Yet, as with all good dreams of color and cloud, it did finish; but that was okay because I had not lost something wonderful -- I’d gained something beautiful.
I smiled up at my partner, the man who’d shared a taste of grace, that illustrious wine which I so rarely sipped. “Thank you,” I whispered, and finding no ready adjective to completely describe the experience, I contented myself with smiling joyfully.
“Yes, well, I am amazing...” he replied with a smug smile.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I teased. “Though you are amazing,” I added.
“Have we switched recently? Switch partners!” the teacher instructed.
We bowed our heads to each other. “Thank you for the dance,” his formal words were belied by his charmed tone.
“Thank you,” I answered with a flourish in his direction.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Three Class Quick-Writes
Stonehenge
The first thing I remember is the sea.
It's been a long time since I was at the sea -- that was a rough life, wearing -- but never monotonous. Each wave brought a new tickle, a new sensation. Life is much quieter here, full of lighter sensations, full of heat and dirt and the occasional cricket. I always liked dawn at the sea, but sunset is better here. The fire recedes from the sky and I am drawn in -- my brothers are silent, I am the only one who still watches the sky.
Merlin
The feeling spread within him; his blood slowed, turned to sap. His legs grew heavy and melded with the ground, and his fingers curled into graceful branches. So observed Merlin, after all these years speaking with trees, this is how it feels to be one. The scraggly white beard petrified and Merlin felt his essence leaking form his mind and into the other pores of his being like water spurting from a cracked bucket.
Jimi
Sky
High
Eye see you!
Don't deny
Rectify
You may burn inside –
but music makes you beautiful
Sunday, March 15, 2009
quote of the Day 21: play practice
"Why do they have five kids if they don't sleep in the same bed?"
"Trust me, you can do it anywhere." -- Mrs. Martin"Okay everyone, I want you to take your clothes off" -- Mrs. Martin
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
:D
i love this show
i'll be really sad when it's over :(
Friday, March 6, 2009
another day
so, i'm listening to some awesome indian music (Tere Bin!) and contemplating the day. it was average, but epic.
shane said something to me at lunch today which made me laugh uncontrollably. and i'm not talking about the little hyena giggles i usually have, these were full-blown boisterous guffaws. it was just one of those little incidents which make me realize how unique and fantastic my friends are :)
the title of this is the name of a song from RENT that's awesome (aren't they all?!). i just noticed that, haha.
i blew my voice in rehearsal again (i REALLY need to practice projecting but my voice is so frail right now. GAH!) so i'm sitting here sipping hot lemon (hot water with lemon and honey in it) and have vowed (silently) to not speak for the rest of tonight.
i have no more classes until monday, and have balanced my time enough to be able to get MOST of my homework done. the rest of it i'll divvy up between the free time i have the rest of the weekend -- tonight i'm reading my book, listening to music, and relaxing. Salut!
shane said something to me at lunch today which made me laugh uncontrollably. and i'm not talking about the little hyena giggles i usually have, these were full-blown boisterous guffaws. it was just one of those little incidents which make me realize how unique and fantastic my friends are :)
the title of this is the name of a song from RENT that's awesome (aren't they all?!). i just noticed that, haha.
i blew my voice in rehearsal again (i REALLY need to practice projecting but my voice is so frail right now. GAH!) so i'm sitting here sipping hot lemon (hot water with lemon and honey in it) and have vowed (silently) to not speak for the rest of tonight.
i have no more classes until monday, and have balanced my time enough to be able to get MOST of my homework done. the rest of it i'll divvy up between the free time i have the rest of the weekend -- tonight i'm reading my book, listening to music, and relaxing. Salut!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
quote of the Day 20
"What should we name him?" -- Raeo
"Doug." -- Anna
"Doug the suicidal rolly polly!" -- Caity
"I'd write a children's book called that." -- Anna
"Very expressive! No Botox in that face!" -- Julie Eau
"Kona, why're you trying to come back in? It was your idea to go out dog, not mine. Ah, it's silly, trying to have an intelligent conversation with the dog." --mum. (she says that, and yet she continues to talk to the animals... if you wonder where i got it, now you know :)
"Well, when you put it like that... how could I possibly refuse?!?!" -- Anna
we were talking about orange peels. :P
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