Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Sugar Plum Fairies

I'm sitting in a chair built for someone under the age of 10. It puts me at the right height for my homemade closet door/ kayak stand table I've been working on (although my knees don't fit under it). I have the internet on this laptop and my cousin's high school senior portraits I'm editing on my barely functional laptop beside this one. December wind blows by the window on a dark cold Etzler Road. Brett Dennen's Ain't Gonna Lose you croons from these speakers, The Nutcracker hums under Photoshop, Ani Difranco's Grey pulses in my heart. I am currently some mix of the three.
Every silver lining's got a ... touch of grey. Life needs both, right? Silver. Grey. The mid-tones to a rare occurrence; black and white. I've been feeling kindred with a brisk /slow shuffled beat of urban grey landscapes where pedestrians' breath resembles car exhaust. A place with rosy cheeks, chapped lips, coffee, and scarves.
I'm wondering if it's part of my pendulum; if months of green, dirt, water pulsing is swinging me to the other side; fashion, people, pavement. There's a sign at Neel's Gap, the first hostel north of Georgia on the Appalachian Trail, that says "Wherever you are, be all there".
As beautiful and dear as Botetourt county will always be I am restless in a childhood bedroom with no definitive map for the next bit of my journey. I'm trying to conjure the strength and perspective to not settle in any area of my life. I'm trying to work hard enough to afford spreading my wings under a warm spring sun.
Christmas feels more grey than silver. I finished the Chronicles of Narnia in November. I've been thinking a lot about the last book, where the friends of Narnia walk through the stable, through a brightly lit door, only to find all this time they've been living in a pale reflection of the "true narnia". I'm working on that motion.
I have a vague memory of warm hearts, sparkling long nights, magic. Although it seems far away, it's worth fighting for, so slowly and surely I hope to make my way back.
I hope you have all those things through the holidays; warmth, a sense of belonging, tasty sweets, glittering hope and light in a dark time.
Merry Christmas.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Merry Christmas and a Healthy New Year to you...

Christmas has it happiest of times with sprinkles of sadness. Loved ones that have gone to heaven, friends that have a different season then me, and then future thrown in.

I know that I am thankful for the Birth of Jesus and that is the only reason for the season.

Love to you and Geronimo.
Your PenMar Family,
Linda Lee

Andrew said...

Hey...Merry Christmas and Happy New Year...sorry I couldn't call you for xmas, or any other time...the phones here in Nepal are temperamental and expensive. Give you a call when I'm back in India. Peace out - Bones.