Last night I dreamed that some unseen force tied helium balloons to my legs so I could not stand solid on the earth. I kept removing the balloons, which were long like femurs, and pale blue, and the mysterious force kept putting them back.
In the meantime, the electricity had been turned off and I wanted it back on.
In the end I won, but I was exhausted from my persistence.
Given the previous post and my being down here to "wire" my first novel, I had to smile this morning when I woke up. I probably need the power off while wiring, don't you think?
The photo here is the view out my window. I took it yesterday, moved by the pattern of the bricks, the darkness in that window, the pile of unused shutters, and the two solid pines standing like sentinels on either side.
Today the pine on the left is being cut down as I type. It's rotting from the base and leaning slightly toward the upstairs veranda. They have chosen to take it out before it takes out a chunk of the house.
Somehow all this is swirling around, filtering into my work in not quite conscious ways. It's going well.
Glad it's going well. :-)
ReplyDeletethanks... even better last night and today!
ReplyDeletebillie
Love the light and shadow laid out against the peak of the house. Shutters by shuddering brick... Love your dream of the balloons. Something there beyond the obvious. Perhaps this lifting up is the fertile buoyancy of the creative process. Or maybe it's just time to dance in the sky. ;-)
ReplyDeleteI love photographing light and windows - probably my favorite subject over all the years of taking pictures.
ReplyDeleteWith this one, there was something about the mystery of the window and the pile of abandoned shutters - almost like the main house had exposed itself for all to see - thrown away the shutters to let the light in - and the mystery moved to the little garden house.
I did not make the time to photograph that same image in late afternoon sun, which would have been intriguing.
I did take tons of photos of places in town that I had written well before ever setting foot in S. Pines - in the first novel - and found when I did go there that what I had blindly written did indeed exist.
Haven't decided yet whether to do a sort of tribute to that on the blog.
billie