My marriage as I write this is exactly one year and one week old... almost to the minute, but I would have to check the time signature on the pictures to be sure... and I have finally, if only for a minute, found myself floating on the tranquil and serene waters of life. Life is so good, so sweet, and so gentle that my dreams have stilled and become boring. Take this vignette; back home after three days on the river, which I will tell you about (maybe) and asleep before the next work day I dreamed nonstop about interpreters floating in canoes interpreting into the air.
I understand, on the surface it might seem interesting, it was even a little ghostly, but the dream was merely an intersection of my two days, a day after canoeing to be followed by a day back at work, and nothing more. ...not even (excuse the pun) an interpretation of events. Each interpreter sat in their own canoe indifferent to the current drifting their craft about. It was a traitorous overlap, two transparent days spinning like an eddy in my brain. It was eerie, I mean, who the fuck were they interpreting to? but it was not eerie enough to keep from tossing awake with boredom. All night.
Last night I dreamt I was looking at a list. That's all. I was looking at a list, and I was supposed to pack the things on the list because out the door behind me were dragons and lollipop trees but I kept reading the list, reading the list, insomnolent with impatience. Where are my dreams? If my life is milk and honey will my dreams wither away into mediocrity?
Of course, you can bet you can't count on being content. Eventually someone, perhaps even me, somehow, will start up with their suffering and I will be miffed that I'd been lulled into a false sense of security in a dangerously tentative world. The existential abyss will yawn open and I will swoon on its precipice.
Meanwhile, life, since it is not busy unraveling, is good. Yesterday Clark and I went to a friends wedding out in Hood River and since there doesn't seem to be and danger on the horizon I was convinced by both Clark and Anita to wear an scandalous dress. YOU WON'T LOOK LIKE THAT WHEN YOU ARE 80, BUT YOU WILL BE WISHING YOU HAD WORN THE DRESS IF YOU DON'T, AND IF YOU DO, YOU WONT BE SITTING AROUND REGRETTING THAT YOU DID.
So I did.
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