when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Stuff In Heaven

In a house which resembles a potter's warehouse.I see my best friend from my childhood. We are both in the heyday of adolescence, we are maybe ten years old. We both have long hair, down to our waists; her blond, me dark. She is the archetype of Friend, her initials are (were) BF. That's how I refer to her in my journals, I realize it also could represent "Best Friend", that's what she was. There is stuff everywhere. I don't mean furniture and clothing, but stuff. Stuff like oil pastels, old discarded letters from your mother maybe. Best Friend is sleeping. I wake her up and say, "hey, do you know what this place is?"
She smiles and hugs me, maybe we even kiss, passionately,but of course I couldn't remember such a thing. She's the same gender as me.
"It's the place where every-thing we've ever been in contact with, every-thing physical is stored for eternity."
Kind of cool, isn't it?

Now to work it:
House-symbol of the physical house of the spirit-body.
Best friend.
Adolescence-the time of budding sensuality, awareness of possibilities and true love of fun and friends.
Oil pastels, letters from Mom-sentimental thoughts and memories, creativity,tools of artistic expression.
Kiss- soft, sensual, passion.
Everything Stored for eternity, like an image on film.
I have myself remebering, awakening. I remember the young passion of friendship when life was less complicated. All action, everything physical is creativity, creating bonds of love. All memories, all actions, all emotions are stored in the warehouse of creativity that is me. I am connecting with friends I haven't seen in a long time and I am happy to feel the connection of co-creators and share a smile, a story, a moment in eternity.

1 comment:

Michelle O'Neil said...

Beautiful, Stacy.