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Meeting@memorylake
Jul. 2nd, 2004 01:01 amHere are 2 snaps of the box I made for this year's Box Art Auction to benefit East End Hospice. I call it meeting@memorylake. :)
Jul. 2nd, 2004
Yesterday while driving home I fell in love with the arm of the driver in front of me. Man or woman I was not sure. It did not matter, though later I would lean more towards thinking it male.
It languished outside its window...Was it waving at me, making long left turn warnings, or just enjoying the breeze I do not know. It made gestures, rested, lounged on the side and top of the car.
It was beautiful, sensual, mysterious.
We travelled together for quite a while, the arm and I. At some time I felt the gaze of the arm's owner in their rear view mirror, then in the side mirror...seeking me.
It made me shy and self-conscious, I may have blushed, I turned towards sky and trees to avoid its burning.
We travelled in a strange bubble of sensuality, enveloping two cars on a road. This fact I refused to confirm to those eyes which seemed to ask over and over 'Is it not so?'.
Instead I kept my eyes vague and soft, moved my lips around the words to the song I was singing along to (did it look like I was speaking?), gave the arm one last warm caress and turned right.
It languished outside its window...Was it waving at me, making long left turn warnings, or just enjoying the breeze I do not know. It made gestures, rested, lounged on the side and top of the car.
It was beautiful, sensual, mysterious.
We travelled together for quite a while, the arm and I. At some time I felt the gaze of the arm's owner in their rear view mirror, then in the side mirror...seeking me.
It made me shy and self-conscious, I may have blushed, I turned towards sky and trees to avoid its burning.
We travelled in a strange bubble of sensuality, enveloping two cars on a road. This fact I refused to confirm to those eyes which seemed to ask over and over 'Is it not so?'.
Instead I kept my eyes vague and soft, moved my lips around the words to the song I was singing along to (did it look like I was speaking?), gave the arm one last warm caress and turned right.
Hmmmm....and since there are obviously no coincidences and books write themselves as they are read, I find this today in the book I am reading:
"In Chloe, a great city, the people who move through the streets are all strangers. At each encounter, they imagine a thousand things about one another; meetings which could take place between them, conversations, surprises, caresses, bites.
But no one greets anyone; eyes lock for a second, then dart away, seeking other eyes, never stopping."
" ... A voluptuous vibration constantly stirs Chloe, the most chaste of cities.
If men and women began to live their ephemeral dreams, every phantom would become a person with whom to begin a story of pursuits, pretenses, misunderstandings, clashes, oppressions, and the carousel of fantasies would stop."
-Italo Calvino
'Invisible Cities'
"In Chloe, a great city, the people who move through the streets are all strangers. At each encounter, they imagine a thousand things about one another; meetings which could take place between them, conversations, surprises, caresses, bites.
But no one greets anyone; eyes lock for a second, then dart away, seeking other eyes, never stopping."
" ... A voluptuous vibration constantly stirs Chloe, the most chaste of cities.
If men and women began to live their ephemeral dreams, every phantom would become a person with whom to begin a story of pursuits, pretenses, misunderstandings, clashes, oppressions, and the carousel of fantasies would stop."
-Italo Calvino
'Invisible Cities'