Thursday, August 24, 2006

My vision....

Since I was a girl, I have had a recurring vision of a house, so vivid I thought for years it was actual. The house in my dream is Victorian, with gabled roofs and a tower. The roof is tiled in red clay, warm and Spanish, substantial and abstract as Cezanne. Sometimes the roof is blue. Always there are chimneys. Many chimneys.

The upper stories are sided in white-painted cedar shingles weathered to where the wood shows through. The house sits on high ground. I cannot remember ever dreaming it in a valley. It has stood for generations surrounded by gardens of poppies, blue-eyed cornflowers, flashing white daisies, and climbing roses. There is a hedge of heavy-scented purple lilac and the sounds of winged insects. A few tall oaks or maples shade the house in cool green refracted light.

The entrance and main rooms are built of rocks glowing amber and aquamarine, like river stones under running water. There are spacious rooms paneled in mahogany, and a maroon velvet window seat where I can curl up and look through leaded glass windows. The birds are outside and cannot get in. I flinch from the beat of their emerald wings.

Stairways surprise me. I find them where I least expect, always with delight, and explore where they lead. My bedroom is the tower.

Did this wordcrafter crawl into my mind to write these words? It sure seems like it! From the gables to the window seat...that was my little-girl (sometimes older-girl) dream. Somewhere along the way it became cloudy, but reading this has blown fresh air and revealed that it's still there. Not sure what shape it will take, or if it will be visible at all through the 'what is'. But it was refreshing to take a step back into the innocence of daydreams... thank you, Annick Smith, for crafting your words to describe my picture.

1 whatevers:

Kelly said...

NO...You are NOT the bad part of that memory...just part that sticks out in my mind...your feet on my chair just naturally go with breakfast. heehee...