9:23 p.m. - 2005-04-22
brown study
California wildflowers ran amok this season. Ran riot, actually. Now the riot shows signs of winding down. Stems, turgid w/winter rain two weeks ago, indicate wilt. Hummingbirds nurse hangovers and some of the bees are talking about taking a week off. The big players (poppies, lupines, Indian paintbrushes) loll already in cantinas, rinsing post-riot dust from petaled throats w/flower-sips from chipped glasses of sangria; toasting the riot and regaling each other w/tales of their part in it.
We've sprung forward, time-wise, so the 5PM sky still burns bright outside the opening I've cut for this window; shining through a haze of sawdust into a room empty save for a row of opened packages stacked against the opposite wall. These are bridal-shower gifts, and the home I'm standing in used to be mine. So too (in a certain sense) was the woman who owns it. She's married now, or about to be. I didn't get an invitation so I couldn't tell you the details. I just know it's going down this weekend, back east; and that the house is chock full of photos of the happy couple. "Were we ever that happy?", I wonder.
It's hard to remember exactly.
Modern life can involve emotional scenarios complex beyond the pale of any primitive, visceral, corollary. Complicated stimuli that mix like secondary colors on an artists palette...and though purple-orange may very well posses some sublime potential, to my blue eye, under this yellow sun, it reads brown.
I'm feeling a surplus of brown.
