I know it made your head spin, what we did with money
Thanks to the Canadian wildfires, our sunset light is Pompeiian red, by which I mean mostly the cinnabar and heat-treated smolder of the pigment, but also the implication of volcano.
Because my day was scrambled by a canceled appointment, after I had made a lot of phone calls![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch took me for soft-serve ice cream in the late afternoon, and once home I walked out to photograph some poppies I had seen from the car.
In the ambient mid-eighties of the suddenly summer air, the soft-serve almost instantaneously liquefied. The hard-shell dip slid off. The ice cream itself sort of calved onto my hands. Rob said I looked like a very intent cat as I pursued it.
The peonies were on the way to the poppies and deserved recognition of their own.
The poppies had a phenomenal contrast going on.
The breeze-shiver made them look current-blurred, soft as anemones.
I can't help feeling that last night's primary dream emerged from a fender-bender in the art-horror 1970's because once the photographer who had done his aggressive and insistently off-base best to involve me in a blackmail scandal had killed himself, all of a sudden the hotel where I had been attending a convention with my husbands had a supernatural problem. Waking in the twenty-first century, I appreciate it could be solved eventually with post-mortem mediation rather than exorcistic violence, but it feels like yet another subgenre intruding that the psychopomp for the job was a WWI German POW.
Because my day was scrambled by a canceled appointment, after I had made a lot of phone calls
spatch took me for soft-serve ice cream in the late afternoon, and once home I walked out to photograph some poppies I had seen from the car.
In the ambient mid-eighties of the suddenly summer air, the soft-serve almost instantaneously liquefied. The hard-shell dip slid off. The ice cream itself sort of calved onto my hands. Rob said I looked like a very intent cat as I pursued it.
The peonies were on the way to the poppies and deserved recognition of their own.
The poppies had a phenomenal contrast going on.
The breeze-shiver made them look current-blurred, soft as anemones.
I can't help feeling that last night's primary dream emerged from a fender-bender in the art-horror 1970's because once the photographer who had done his aggressive and insistently off-base best to involve me in a blackmail scandal had killed himself, all of a sudden the hotel where I had been attending a convention with my husbands had a supernatural problem. Waking in the twenty-first century, I appreciate it could be solved eventually with post-mortem mediation rather than exorcistic violence, but it feels like yet another subgenre intruding that the psychopomp for the job was a WWI German POW.
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A lot of my dreams have this quality!
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Thank you!
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(The flower photos are really lovely.)
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I ran it down and wrestled it to the ground and devoured it!
(The flower photos are really lovely.)
Thank you!
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That dream sounds like at least a good short story.
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I hope you have and I hope to see them!
That dream sounds like at least a good short story.
Very few of my dreams have actually turned into short stories, but I think a lot of them want to.
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I like that dream. Any recognizable cast members?
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I guess it depends on whether it still works to be covered in an ultimately very confused mating swarm.
I like that dream. Any recognizable cast members?
Thank you! I woke up feeling it should have had David Warner in it, but I am not confident it actually did. (He'd have been the psychopomp.)
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Niiiice
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Peonies just beg you to shove your face into them and luxuriate. And those poppies! The centers look like they're going to open, and it'll be a portal to another dimension.
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I like that idea, even if I suspect the other dimension is classically the underworld.
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Second day in a row the light has gone a bit ecliptic. (I believe we are too far north for the Saharan dust, but who knows climatically anymore.)
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I just saw from the car that they were blooming. I had to get up close for the full effect.
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The ice cream looks good, though - and the poppy pics are very striking!
I can't help feeling that last night's primary dream emerged from a fender-bender in the art-horror 1970's because once the photographer who had done his aggressive and insistently off-base best to involve me in a blackmail scandal had killed himself, all of a sudden the hotel where I had been attending a convention with my husbands had a supernatural problem.
I mean, dreaming 1970s horror is a skill, it has to be said. Whether desirable or not, I don't know! <3
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Thank you!
I mean, dreaming 1970s horror is a skill, it has to be said. Whether desirable or not, I don't know!
Mostly it bugs me I can't send my friends the videotapes!
*hugs*
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I haven't noticed any of the Canadian smoke (and, as a Canadian, I feel I have to apologize for all of it), but apparently we had an air quality alert here in Chicago. I'll try to check our sunset tonight to see if we got any of the reds and oranges you experienced.
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That is entirely lovely.
I haven't noticed any of the Canadian smoke (and, as a Canadian, I feel I have to apologize for all of it), but apparently we had an air quality alert here in Chicago. I'll try to check our sunset tonight to see if we got any of the reds and oranges you experienced.
May you have a nice sunset and also no problems breathing! And no obligation to apologize. We're stuck with this one atmosphere.
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It's in our DNA. Bob early on had to bark at me "stop APOLOGIZING!" to get me to, you know, stop apologizing. I apologized for apologizing. True story.