Bran& Beth/interruptions & instructions

 

It is the sound of a young male voice calling from somewhere far away that causes Bran to suddenly let go 

“Ioan,” he says simply looking regretfully down at me but letting go and stepping back anticipating the appearance of his young son Ioan. I get a glimpse of him and then he looks back at me awkwardly. I see instantly he looks more like Clare, but he stares a bit longer than I expect him to before he does a funny wave before he and his father talk.

“I should get changed,” I say as I start to walk past them to go inside 

Bran calls out,

“go through the bedroom door, it’s unlocked.”

But until he said that I hadn’t realized there was a door that led out to the garden from the bedroom. From outside I had assumed it went somewhere else. There is a pebbled paved walkway through the garden, and it leads to the little patios that I now see one is by the bedroom with chairs and a table which I had noticed but glossed over. 

The door is unlocked, and it is a sliding door which on the inside was covered by long draperies that go all the way across but mesh off to the sides and one side was hiding the door which going back in, I have to move aside

only once I am back in the bedroom do I realize why Bran wanted me to go this way— he managed to slip a surprise for me across the bed. There’s a note attached to a pretty white dress with eyelet and little white satin bows 

I look at the note which says,

‘~Wear this for me tonight x’

ces choses que je me demande

 Qui veux-tu à tes côtés quand ton monde s'effondre ? Avec qui vas-tu célébrer le fait d'être là pour toi ?

Bran & Beth/his garden

“But, before we go, there’s something I want you to see,” Bran says

He shows me his garden. He takes my hand. 

We go through the terrace door which is just through the dining room, and it is like stepping into a sanctuary. He holds my hand and absently our fingers twist and weave….and it is so natural with him, we do this without knowing we do until when I almost trip over a garden tool, his hand grips mine tight…. It catches me. 

We are in his garden ….at last and this caught off moment brings us to the immediate present….how strange to be in his garden after so much time has passed….. I think this caught in his poet’s eyes ….see the Hamilton roses 

“Beth,” he says and puts his hands on me; they lay upon my shoulders and he slowly draws me to him but holds me in front of him, “I’m sorry ….for all the wasted years,” he says now

“No—“

“Yes,” he says but stops any more of my words with his mouth; without foreplay of warning his kiss possesses immediately 

Wuffis; Bran & Beth/starting to break the ice

“That dog missing an eye or that cat missing an ear, I always felt I’d be better off giving an animal like that a home,” Bran says to me now when he finds me with ‘Wuffis’ the said dog with, while not a missing eye but a blind eye. 

He has become my friend unexpectedly as he settled himself among my shoes. He is a mutt but so cute! He is brown with floppy ears; a mix of some kind of terrier and he’s playful!

“When did you get him?” I ask 

“When I knew you were coming,” Bran says now and looks around the newly constructed bedroom where I have been hanging my dresses and folding sweaters in drawers. “How do you like it?”

I look up at him as I’m petting Wuffis—he is nuzzling my hand 

“Him?”

Bran smiles and then shakes his head,

“I mean…. here?”

But you know, I haven’t let myself think about that. I just want to take everything in; the newness of that I’m really here with him after everything…after so much that —wow it takes so much to absorb but happy —I feel happy with him only I just got here and it is tooo soon to say

I say instead,

“To be here with you knowing that — you are the kind of man who would even say that about a dog or a cat ….the rest almost doesn’t matter,” but then my stomach growled 

“Oh—that’s what I meant to tell you—I’m taking you out for dinner— dress up!”

Notes of a Celf’s journey

notes today….

There is something about being around water around a full moon for me. Especially if there are waves. It is something about the rhythm, the four elements, and that ….thing about myself that I guess some might have accused me of being a witch, but I don’t know what it is or why I have it only that I learned long ago that it was best to accept it and ….keep it on the down low. I’ve worn the moon stone all year and whatever fragmented part of my inner eye that was reaped in these last few years has found the spiritual glue to mend that part within. That part. 

So to mention. Something cryptic I still don’t get. In a passing moment before, I got one of my visions. But it is confusing

I sense that I’ve been pulled from the habit of meditations because —from ….where I was last. You know, you don’t always know the extent of your own inner wounds until you’re faced with the issues they give you. I forgot just how to let my body muscles relax. How to go limp. I was always listening to hear my name shouted and for two years I slept about three hours a night. I know how that messes the mind— so, lately, the meditations have returned. On their own. So…. what does this vision mean thst I got —on one level it was to heal but there was something else. Having to do with either saving someone, or no…. it had to do with elevation of —something to do with a soul’s journey. Only if I’m to heal, what is this to do with saving someone else when I’ve been doing this most of my life it seems. My mother was one. 

The strange thing is, I don’t sense I need to search for it, that it’s a work I’m somehow already involved in, so maybe it will appear; person or event but mostly I feel me returned almost to another me but without erasing the difficulties. Maybe they fade ….when you get enough time watching the waves during full moons….its funny, people lately are so drawn to me, I think it is this coming back

   

An Edward Hopper Mordor

I don’t know why, what it is, there is just something about this that always stops me— is it the industrial realism? it’s bald, raw simplicity? —and yet, it is the vines that always draws me here; I like how well the shapes of the leaves look like hearts crawling up cold walls like arms of embrace that colors with its photosynthesis the lifeless stony-ness under its complimentary shade to soften the stark edges away ….the corrupt twin tanks become decorative like Grecian vases and as I sink into my quiet artistic shyness thinking I disappear among the streets behind the length of hair —someone calls out to me, “I love your hair! It’s so pretty!” And realize, the longer it grows the more I stand out….but I say thank you. And think more about the industrial ….feeling ….seeing Thackary on the shelf when I was searching for ….and bumping into my name everywhere next to ….the outside me —the inside me ….only some ever get past or let ….into ….This wall is my great muse —it may symbolize more than just one of my many walls but joint —or an opening to A Way to Escape Our False World