August 17, 2006

a happy week

wacom, i'll be going back to ink and pencil, paper made out of trees and special chemicals.

i was a sad day today, because i knew the week of bike rides in a flat city, cool bluegrass and breezes through the trees with seed pods that sounded like shakers (davis), eating sweet peaches, hot stretchy naps in the dog park (mission dolores), with the perfect sun + wind in a city that is too pretty. walking through crowds and looking at strange images posted on white walls -- aluminum tread plate cast in plastic (downtown), laughing about branding corrals and tattooed families with little bare-skinned children, long fingers and a story about little glass bottleneck, your elegant new sneakers! -- canvas on the outside and soft leather inside

(which i forgot to take photos of; i guess i was afraid photos would mean i couldn't keep all our images to myself and think and rethink about them and eat them one by one later, like bonbon jujubes), and they were sleepy days that found us dropping things here and there in the park, in the car, in such a state of distraction that big things become tiny things and small things become big things ... and then, how one person could mean more than a forest ... the week was coming to a close. well, now i have the memories to keep, like honey from honey sticks on my tongue. you bring back stories and the most delicate flying creatures from a faraway land (i wondered how you caught them) with a few words and sweeping hand gestures. you've come back with new eyes. it sure makes me think of how much those things that are unsaid, but done, mean so much.

No comments: