I am slightly perplexed by the discovery that if you visit the Merriam-Webster Dictionary online and do a search on websites containing the word "somnolent" Aries Moon turns up fourth on the list. The only reason I know about this is a very nice person wrote in to say she found my diary through this method. I went to look and it was quite true.
Gosh, this college education really is worthwhile after all.
I've spent my weekend attempting to ramp down from the crazed weasel overdrive of the last three weeks, meaning I've done very little worth writing about. Mostly, I've been practicing being quietly alert. It's hard. I have nearly forgotten how to look at something, just look, without my brain yapping in the background distracting me. But I'm getting sporadic moments of being able to do it. It seems to happen most at night: I'll be walking the dog and suddenly be struck by the contrast of a silver, manmade light pole and the wayward tendrils of ivy winding around it. Or late in the evening I notice the eerie beauty of the moon, just past full and deep orange as it hangs above the horizon, with the solid column of orange it creates across the still waters of the bay like the mark of some elder god. I see these things and instead of my forebrain working it feels like some ancient part of myself is peering out of the internal cave where scary, primal things exist.
That's what I want to feel. That's the part of me that makes art, that knows more than I allow myself to deal with on a daily basis. I'm tired of the shallower, easy ways. I'm so tired of limiting myself to what I know I can do. It's time to swim further out.
It's time to wake up.
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