I woke up before sunrise, walked out the door and watched the dawn fluffify on the first day of summer.* For some inexplicable reason, I found myself humming "The Twelve Days of Christmas." Now I find myself filled with the desire to re-write the song, substituting "summer" for "Christmas" and different gifts (not necessarily summer-related) into it.
Maybe later. For now, let us see what the longest day of the year has in store.
[*] Yes, "fluffify." It was far too soft and arrival to "break." Pastels seemed to spin and puff over the blackened peaks like cotton candy. I could imagine taking a small hunk of sky and letting it melt in my mouth. I wonder whether it would leave a hole of night or whether the depth of sky is enough that it would simply leave a dent?
19 June 2007
adding spices to the sauce
Salsa dance class let out early tonight. Many of our regulars did not show up and at the end, there was only one girl and six guys. I wanted to dance with her, she is one of my favorite partners, but I was getting tired and none of the songs seemed right. Maybe the next song would have been better, but it was obvious that most of us did not feel comfortable with the situation, so the instructor turned off the music and ended the class about an hour and a half earlier than usual.
I taught a girl to dance bachata though. That was fun. And I danced several times with her mother. All in all, it was a good evening.
I have been dancing salsa for almost exactly a year now. I feel a lot more comfortable doing it than I used to. Or at least, I feel more comfortable acting silly than I used to. I do not always try to keep to the moves we learn in class anymore. I make up my own moves, add my own silly flair. It feels right, I stay in rhythm, and my partners have fun. That's all that matters, really.
I taught a girl to dance bachata though. That was fun. And I danced several times with her mother. All in all, it was a good evening.
I have been dancing salsa for almost exactly a year now. I feel a lot more comfortable doing it than I used to. Or at least, I feel more comfortable acting silly than I used to. I do not always try to keep to the moves we learn in class anymore. I make up my own moves, add my own silly flair. It feels right, I stay in rhythm, and my partners have fun. That's all that matters, really.
17 June 2007
Thoughts After a Santa Fe Trip
Prairie dog on the sidewalk, sniffing the air as I drive past. Santa Fe, NM is so different from Columbus, OH. It is not merely the flora, the fauna, or the weather, although all of those things probably feed into it. It is the attitude of the latitude and the altitude.
Santa Fe is obsessed with its appearance. It calls itself "the City Different" and it does its best to show that face to newcomers and casual visitors. It forces all its architecture to be that faux-dobe style, but it keeps true native influence hidden, subverted, or contained. The native jewelers may only sell on a small strip by the Governor's Mansion on the plaza. I have been told that they used to be able to sell anywhere in the city, especially the plaza. The plaza contains a memorial to soldiers who died oppressing a local tribe. Chains prevent people from coming too close, but it is obvious to the observant that people have permanently defaced the memorial and that the barriers are to prevent more of such actions. Prairie dog cities lie beneath the ground; small holes reveal some of their whereabouts and the government continues a neverending battle for territory. The prairie dogs occasionally lose ground, but they always return.
I guess that is not so different from anyplace (or anyone) else, really. We all try to put forth the image that we want to show. But like acne, or like the aforementioned prairie dogs, the things that we do not want to show still pop up.
Santa Fe is obsessed with its appearance. It calls itself "the City Different" and it does its best to show that face to newcomers and casual visitors. It forces all its architecture to be that faux-dobe style, but it keeps true native influence hidden, subverted, or contained. The native jewelers may only sell on a small strip by the Governor's Mansion on the plaza. I have been told that they used to be able to sell anywhere in the city, especially the plaza. The plaza contains a memorial to soldiers who died oppressing a local tribe. Chains prevent people from coming too close, but it is obvious to the observant that people have permanently defaced the memorial and that the barriers are to prevent more of such actions. Prairie dog cities lie beneath the ground; small holes reveal some of their whereabouts and the government continues a neverending battle for territory. The prairie dogs occasionally lose ground, but they always return.
I guess that is not so different from anyplace (or anyone) else, really. We all try to put forth the image that we want to show. But like acne, or like the aforementioned prairie dogs, the things that we do not want to show still pop up.
raindrops keep falling on my head
Rain, thunder, lightning and hail. Sunny skies and mild temperatures. All of these passed before my eyes today. At least when I looked out the window. Most of today was spent indoors, working on computer programs.
Still, the staccato drumbeat of precipitation was an invitation. I wanted to be outside. If I am fortunate, I might get to go out tomorrow. It is funny how much I want to be outside when I am forced to remain in.
Perhaps I am part cat?
Still, the staccato drumbeat of precipitation was an invitation. I wanted to be outside. If I am fortunate, I might get to go out tomorrow. It is funny how much I want to be outside when I am forced to remain in.
Perhaps I am part cat?
15 June 2007
Nocturnal Predations
Last night, it plummeted from the sky and performed a small hop. I had never seen an owl in the wild before. It was large, the size of a toddler, and fluffy. It was pale in the headlights, grey, tan, or white ... I could not tell. It was after something, a mouse or rat, I suspect. Perhaps a prairie dog? I was driving past and could not stop to see. I was on my way to dance in Santa Fe. No time for night time predation.
Many have considered them to be birds of ill omen. It is mentioned in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. I have heard that many of the local tribes will not hunt if one is spotted.
It was beautiful in its silent savagery. And for the first time, I could understand the way that men fear them.
At the bar, I danced for joy. I danced for life. But others around me had other intentions. I watched men and women stalk each other. Almost as fascinating as the owl, but not as rare in my personal experience.
Many have considered them to be birds of ill omen. It is mentioned in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. I have heard that many of the local tribes will not hunt if one is spotted.
It was beautiful in its silent savagery. And for the first time, I could understand the way that men fear them.
At the bar, I danced for joy. I danced for life. But others around me had other intentions. I watched men and women stalk each other. Almost as fascinating as the owl, but not as rare in my personal experience.
14 June 2007
New Blog
I feel like my LiveJournal is becoming too restricting. Too many people reading it. Too many expectations. I do not really want to stop using it since it is the only way that most of my friends keep up with me. On the other hand, I really think that I need to do something different.
I do not know how to differentiate between this blog and the other one. If I am going to keep them both, I will need to make different kinds of posts in the two places. It is tempting to make this one be about my impressions of New Mexico, hiking, salsa dancing, et cetera. Or I could use it as a writing blog where I go back to writing my fiction and poetry. I guess we'll see what happens.
I do not know how to differentiate between this blog and the other one. If I am going to keep them both, I will need to make different kinds of posts in the two places. It is tempting to make this one be about my impressions of New Mexico, hiking, salsa dancing, et cetera. Or I could use it as a writing blog where I go back to writing my fiction and poetry. I guess we'll see what happens.
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