Thursday, October 7, 2010
You can't see my face because although I am calmly sitting on a rock at the shore of the lake,
I am going full speed ahead.
I am looking over the times past and the times to come, you see?
I see the space above the water and over the hills.
I see the murk beneath the surface and the light shining through.
I fly over the mountains ahead and across the entire continent.
Then over the seas and over the wars
above all the happenings, good or bad
Right back to where I am, where you see the back of my head.
So, you see - I'm right here looking at you too.
It's just that I see so much before you.
The supervolcano of Fort Collins is inside my chest this morning, working its way up to the top of my head, into my fingertips and toes, wandering through my veins and out my pores. I am thinking too hard and am unable to feel for I am reeling in distractions of logic and problem solving, my two favorite diversions. I can’t wrap my head around my emotions, nor can I wrap my emotions around my head. I am simply restless.
I want to build some metal things, to walk into my garage and turn on a blowtorch as an alchemist of decorative wares. I want to pull out a notebook and write to the future, where the notes I’ve scribbled will be found by my kin when they are cleaning out the attic some springtime years from now. I want to put paint to canvas with the whirl of a brush and have it hung on someone’s bathroom wall.