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A party, a parting, and an embrace with D'ana. A long bikeride in a mango-peach autumn, a tunnel of colors. A hike into winter to the lake at the top of the mountain. A night of jazz notes. An attempt at consuming our people's power with black and whites on an old, screeching camera. A day of cluttered shops and duvet slippers. A week of painting over the ugly gray and black strokes. Two weeks of cleansing, cupfuls of green, and pipes up the ass. A day of promises on the skin, a temple in holy places. Seven hours of Bryan Kest and smiling our way through hell. An evening in dance and skin and tears. Four times learning each other. Four hours under his drill, cementing away the rotten past. A last attempt at stillness and power with our teacher. A dinner with a poet. A walk with golden flashes, struggling under their leashes. A perfect prelude to our ascent into a new life. And an appreciation for our old one. Tomorrow starts it. I was breathing and concentrating in yoga, watching my big black mat. Then I closed my eyes, and the image stayed in my forehead. And it became a bright door instead. For us to go through. It's never been about whether there are doors or not, it's making sure we're brave enough to walk through them. Let's get lost, love. Prelude to a Kiss [2002-10-13]
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Last five letters Gathering [2009-09-04] ?2002, Scott & Celeste. |