Two eggs, No Plate.

Yes, I’ve been MIA but know that it is only due to a LOT of writing…other than two weeks just ending of vacation/break. Though we stayed home, we didn’t stay on the island and much enjoyed Houston…because we can, and before some travels take us away what we’ve yet to fully explore right here. Here is a little of what we did.

J was home after his month away working. I am ready for a break from writing, lonely living and even a little from the island. I’ve been writing like mad and a bit inside my head…feeding words upon the pages, but now, it is time to feed the writer, refuel for further writing, to do it justice.

We weren’t going far this trip and the need for art art art, the creative of others dreams, is what I seem to crave, and so, I fed this craving deeply.

….A trip up 45, on a particular mission. To Breath In The Different Than Usual. First stop,  Project Row House. Much enjoyed, pretty cool and looking forward to revisiting. Growth in arts, education and community. Particularly into Linda Simien Kelly . Then among the oaks, gray cottage lined streets, a sudden quiet place in the midst of chaotic Houston. I sit in the park, on the grass, under the sun and relaxed. Breath. The quiet after the insanity. As if growing from the grass, a metal object reaches to the sky, as if reminding you that this pleasant greenery is far from country and still chaotic city. Explore the Menil Collection …and bliss…I danced, I sighed, I smiled, I pondered a particular piece until my vision blurred. Right here, close to home, within touching distance, some of my favorite pieces ever…and upon them I breathed. Salvador Dali is in painting, what I wish to be in writing. The crosser of all line’s, the barrier crasher, the who gives a flying fuck do what I see, kind of artist…not the cutsy politically correct please the crowds, looking for false ass-kissing approval, the non-conformed. Let the dreams fly, the imagination and all that other crazy that lies within your mind. In my over realist view on life I always seek this surrealism. It is often very hard to let go quite so much. To not control. I stepped into the history of Jesus, Egypt and Africa, the Congo even and more, until I once again sought sunlight and back to the living day, walking away from the spirits of the dead. We sat in the middle of a room, a Room  in which the slightest whispered echoed…I wanted to sing…J laughed. When we were the only ones, I did not sing but I spoke one of my own pieces, hearing the bravado the room carry my voice, a lone woman, (she watched the room, you know, those one’s through out any museum or gallery, I like to call them the Angel Watchers and have let my imagination go a little crazy over their character, their role. Angels in my imagination are usually far from good) clapped. I sat in the middle, underneath the peek of light, surrounded by dull walls, echoing the thoughts and prayers of many, the unsureness of most, and let them whisper to me. I could have sat for hours, my imagination filling an otherwise boring space. I love human study, I can’t turn it off. This day was me…and J….ex-Navy PTSD in a chapel of calm souled meditation works very differently than it does on me. VERY Differently.

The great hunt of the day was for Polish Food , perogies being my main goal. Perhaps a moment of nostolgia of old family times. A great grandmother speaking her native tongue, if alive today, I would have had so many questions. Question’s I know she never would have answered. I wanted a touch…a taste, of home, of childhood, of less know-the-real-world time. The category of “Things not found on the island.” We found, to my delight, that in all basic reality my favorite California location, Jerry’s Deli, has a doppelganger here in Houston. We ate until we could eat no more…from stripped reality to gluttony enjoyment. Then a coffeeshop…the big name kind nearby was easy and nearby, J’s uneasy feel crept high and his observation was “I like MOD much better, people have that relaxed island vibe. Here, everyone is stiff, self-conscious, ready for something they don’t look forward to. Let’s go home.” The sunset over the causeway….immediately that sigh of relief. The gold glittering waters. The pelicans drifting alongside. No regret’s, mind full of it all. I let my imagination wander so much this day…so much. Fulfilled. To write, to live, one must feed. This day I fed. I’ll have the eggs, no plate needed, please.


2 thoughts on “Two eggs, No Plate.

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