Sunday, September 30, 2012
Riding my bike in the last sunlit days, the air is clear and the sunshine and cool air a benison on the day, as I ride along the pathway to the store, the dogs and children in the park enjoy the last of Sunday afternoon... it still feels good to zoom along to get my errands done, though soon enough it will be too wet for riding.
I like the way that movement through time and space clears my head, and allows new ideas to float up to the surface. In the old days, going for a drive would do that, my friends and I just piled in the car and drove for miles, no particular destination; the movement, especially at night, would allow a particular flavor of intimacy in conversation, our words floating as easily between us as the car floated along the roads and highways. It seems so very distant now, to drive around aimlessly, the motion and the talking together as entertainment, though our plucky heroine had some small and delectable tastes of that in the time that G and I were keeping company. He would drive down here to Portland to gather me up and take me to his home, and the long highway miles there were filled with the same wonderful flavor of communion. Indeed, most all the times we spent together were bookended by that particular and uncommon joy. I miss it still, and every heartfelt country song reminds me of those nights...
But that memory is not the idea that found a way into my visualising brain this afternoon, but rather more mundanely, an idea about a way to tile the kitchen wall, in a temporary fashion... girl was wondering if it could be possible to cut backsplash panels in pieces, and tile them, and stick them to the wall (with proper flashing and caulking and such)... see, someday dreams have the lower half of that part of the kitchen rebuilt, but that will be long years from now if ever, and in the meantime, it sure would be nice to use and see every day the lovely tiles that I have, instead of them living in a box... for life is short, and putting the enjoyment of beauty off for someday seems foolish