Echo

the experience was so shallow, i still haven’t decided yet if i’ve drowned.

8/10/09 – The Incident with the Dog

i’ve been muy lazy about writing up this unusual thing that happened last monday, so before i get into the bahamas cruise update, i want to get this down.

on monday, i had a really chill day. was in a very, very happy mood. did some writing, headed up to borders to pick up the little prince. i’ve been meaning to read it for some time. i’ve had several people recommend it over the years, and recently, on my last trip up to fremont in june, i noticed my brother had a copy of it on his desk.

are you reading this, i asked him.

i don’t know whose that is, he said.

i remember wanting to take it to read, but wasn’t sure if it belonged to someone else who had just left it at my parents’ house, so i left it alone, making a mental note to check it out.

while on the cruise to alaska, i was getting breakfast one morning and i noticed a guy in the beverage line had it in hand, and it reminded me all over that i wanted to read it. finally, the last night, our last meeting, christian and i talked books and he said the little prince was his number one recommendation to me. i figured i was clearly being urged that now was the right time to read it.

i have a bit of a magical relationship with books. i’m always buying or picking up books…both my parents’ house and my place in la are filled with them. there are books i buy for whatever random impulsive reason, but they’ll sit on my shelf, forgotten for years sometimes, before i pick them up one day by whim. sometimes i read them, sometimes i flip through, but usually what happens is whatever i read turns out to be exactly what i needed to read at the exactly right time.

for example, i read a review of this psychology book about how divorce affects children, particularly in their adult life. i bought the book in 2000, really excited about it because it was right around the time i was focused on getting ready to apply to grad schools for clinical psychology. but then it sat on my shelf for years, until 2007, when i decided to pick a book at random from my shelf to read. it turned out to be a fascinating book, discussing studies indicating that divorce strongly affects the future adult outlooks of children and how they approach their own relationships, and begged the question if divorce is better or worse than when parents are unhappy and stay together. so as i was reading the book, i randomly ran into a chiropractor i’d gone to the previous year after a minor car accident. we went out a few times, and i remember there were some heavy moments when he would mention his parents’ divorce when he was a child, and how he didn’t want to get married then divorced. i sensed he had some deep-seated issues, issues that meant that whatever was happening between us probably wouldn’t go anywhere, but a lot of times, i would find myself thinking about the book or telling him things from the book that seemed to open him up a little more. in a way, that book that i had bought 7 years before and randomly decided to read at that particular time, became an aid of sorts for understanding this man and his perspective of life, connecting in a way that was supportive to him.

other examples are sometimes, i’ll pick up a book or magazine, and read about something random, like polar bears, and then the next night, i might be out and about and someone will mention polar bears and i’ll regurgitate some nugget of info that i just happened to randomly read, and then people say, wow, that’s really interesting, like i’m really smart and know so much random information. but really, i’m just lucky that way. usually this information gets forgotten soon after it’s “used,” so if you asked me about polar bears a month later, i would probably be as clueless as the next person.

so on monday, i went to pick up the little prince to bring to the bahamas with me. i went to borders and happened to have a gift card i had bought for myself last month to get the parking validated. so basically, it was like this book was a present to me, from me. it took me a while to find that book (they’re so incredibly disorganized), though i did find it in spanish. i like reading books in spanish, though my spanish has gotten so rusty that i can only read and slightly understand spoken Spanish if it’s articulated slowly, but can’t “create” with it (speak or write). i felt a twinge in my head, that maybe it’s time to pick up spanish again.

i finally caved and asked a sales rep for help, and the only other copy was a limited edition hardback copy, a really beautiful copy. i figured i would probably really like the book so i may as well get it. was really happy about it.

it was a gorgeous day, blue skies with expressive cloud formations, so i headed to venice to sit outside and watch the sun set while i read the little prince. it seemed like a fitting setting to finally read the book. my usual place wasn’t opened yet for the evening, so i went to a little cafe across the street, and got a coffee. the waitress was really nice.

as i was getting the book out, this shaggy dog on a leash came up, crawled under my chair and between my legs, curling at my feet like she was my dog. her owner was this dignified-looking white guy in his 40’s.

um…okay, he said. this is unusual.

he stood there holding the leash while his dog chilled, pressed up against my legs.

what’s her name, i asked.

lucky, he said.

of course it is, i thought with a smile. like the radiohead song i was just thinking about.

so i was petting her, and he said, she must really like you.

he pulled the leash and asked her if she still wanted to go to the park, but she just looked at me, then put her head back down and chilled. he kept cajoling her, trying to get her to go, but she was determined not to go anywhere, pressing harder into my leg. so he was just standing there, holding the leash, not knowing what to do.

did…you want to sit down?, i asked, gesturing to the open seat across from me.

i guess i have to, he said. lucky doesn’t seem to want to go anywhere.

we talked about the area, but to be honest, we had no connection. it was really tedious small talk. i seemed to also be making him nervous, or more accurately, he was making himself very nervous. he kept taking off his sunglasses, putting them back on, taking them off again, and talking really fast, then drifting off in mid-sentence. so i just tried to be friendly and pass the time, and we waited for his dog to be ready to leave.

i asked him about 1311 abbott kinney which was half a block up from where we were sitting, that commercial building that’s for sale. he didn’t know what it was, but said a lot of buildings were vacant now because there wasn’t enough money coming in to support the leases. the street has a lot of art galleries and boutique retail establishments, but i feel this building isn’t for retail…but something else. i would have to keep an eye on it and think about it some more, but i want access to that rooftop patio.

i told him i was a writer and he told me to write children’s books. actually someone else had suggested that to me before, but as something i would be good at once i had my own kids. we had a long silence while we each stared off into the distance, and then he broke it by saying, i don’t know anything about what you write, but whatever you do, you should tie it in with music, make it a multimedia experience.

that’s funny you say that, i said. my creativity is closely tied to music. i’m always linking music to the things i blog about. music and words, to me, feed and inspire each other. i can’t have one without the other.

he stood up and asked his dog if she was ready to go. he tugged on her leash and she got up, but did a fake out, walking in a tight circle then sitting back down on her haunches, staring at me.

now i d
on’t have as much experience with dogs as many of my friends do–my parents had a sweet dog when i went off to college, and he was great, but i’ve never had my own who was my sole responsibility. i know they do tend to like me, and as long as they aren’t neurotically insane, i usually like them. but this experience with this dog was getting unusual.

the guy kept tugging the leash and telling her to go, but she just sat there looking at me, then jumped into my lap with her paws on my waist, putting her head on the table. it looked like a very wistful hug.

well, that looks very comfortable, i said.

the guy was perplexed. lucky, you act like you don’t get any love at home, he said, almost hurt.

she laid there like that and he patted her but she wouldn’t move. he offered her a treat but she just lifted her head, looked at me, licked my hand, then put her head down again. he tugged at her leash and she would land on the ground, but just jump into my lap again and stare into my eyes.

this is very unusual, he said. she really likes you.

i took my phone and snapped a picture of her.

there, i said. now i promise that i will never forget you.

but she stayed in that position, paws on my lap, staring into my eyes. her owner kept calling her name and she would glance over but go back to staring into my eyes. it was then that i noticed she had hazel eyes that were incredibly…human. i stared back into them and felt myself starting to open, starting to sink, the way it happens when i look into the eyes of someone with whom i’m capable of connecting with on a deeper level.

maybe she has something she’s trying to tell me, i say, almost a whisper. lucky, are you trying to tell me something? do you know what it is i’m supposed to be doing?

she licks her lips, almost a smile, then jumps off, walking away with a happy trot, now more than willing to lead the way towards the park.

her owner looks at me and shrugs, dumbfounded.

i’ll…i’ll see you again, he said, almost dazed. i’ll probably see you again.

he walked away, dog leading the man, and i thought, i’ll see you again. not see you later. not, take it easy. but i’ll see you again. like he didn’t understand what had just happened, but expected when we meet up in the future, we might have a better idea then.

what a strange encounter.

i saw that my place was now open for business and figured i would read there and watch the sunset through the palm trees from my favorite spot by the open window. i went to pay for the coffee but the waitress smiled and told me not to worry about it. that was very nice. so i left her some money on the table, more than the cost of the coffee.

started reading the little prince. it took me a long time because i was savoring every word, every feeling, every sweetness, every image. it made me so happy sometimes, i thought i would cry. got to the part about the baobabs and watching the sunset. loved that i was watching the sunset at the same time.

“you know, when you’re feeling very sad, sunsets are wonderful…”

“on the day of the forty-four times, were you feeling very sad?”

but the little prince didn’t answer.

holy crap. tears welled up in my eyes. i put the book away, to savor for later.

i didn’t end up taking it with me to the bahamas. the copy i have is just too nice. i think i’ll read it over the next couple of days when i go to my spot in venice to watch the sunset.

so far, it has brought a lot of happiness into my spirit.

today’s mood: laconic melancholy

brian told me once that i’m someone who needs a certain amount of time to myself to be melancholy. that it’s just a part of who i am, something that i need. nothing for people to be alarmed by. i guess there’s an emotional richness to being melancholy. it’s probably necessary to give me moments of reflection. regardless, i’m having a melancholy day.

on the taxi ride home i got a very nice, friendly taxi driver. but after this weekend, i didn’t feel like small-talking. i wanted to be left alone to the echoes of my mind. he tried to start a conversation about my vacation, but i gave him very short answers, polite still, but reserved. i realized that i do this. there’s a population in this world of people who think of me as a very quiet, serious, shy person. and that’s because on the days they’ve met me, or whatever side of me i consistently show them, they’ve encountered a very quiet, reserved person. like this taxi driver, these people have never seen me at a party lighting it up, have never seen me in a dark corner having a soul-searching heart-to-heart, have never seen me in work mode getting it done, have never seen me when i’m in warm, bubbly miss helpy-helpy mode. if they saw these other sides of me, they would probably feel like they’re experiencing a different person. but it’s all me, just different sides, different elements becoming dominant.

in regards to this driver, his entire experience of me builds the idea of a quiet, private person.

a polite person. but a blank.

one that may or may not exist.

i like that though. sometimes, i don’t want to be remembered.

sometimes, i wish i could forget.

a couple of nights ago, i had a dream.

i walked into a moonlit afterworld of deep blues and shadows. the world was rich and beautiful, but everything was in disorder, in need of being put back together like pieces of a puzzle that have been jumbled and left in neglect. nothing was functional. the city was lifeless. abstract. lacking meaning and soul.

the school in particular was in shambles. the children had nowhere to go. i sat down and was overwhelmed with sadness, but i wouldn’t let myself collapse. i had to be strong, there was so much work to do. it was all so much to put back together, even before we could start creating what’s new and start moving forward. i stood up, gathering inner strength for the task, feeling overwhelmed but preparing to face what needed to be done when two men approached, surveying the scene.

we have to get this place running again, i said to them.

the cold wind whispered and the moon hung low. it was late. the man on the left put his things down and led me towards a sheltered spot. i followed reluctantly, untrustingly. we laid down, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me as he gently stroked my hair. he kissed the top of my head tenderly, and i let go, closing my eyes, pulled under by a deep wave of exhaustion. i suddenly had an incredible feeling of safety. of all that is familiar. of being home.

it’s him, i realize. the one who echoes of a memory before time. the one i’ve been meeting in various recurring dreams my entire life, even in childhood, his ghost appearing then disappearing to the sound of distant train whistles cutting through midnight fog.

don’t worry, he whispered into my ear as his silent, shadowed friend stood guard. just rest for now. we’ll put everything back the way it should be.

between the slow, deep rhythm of his heart, and his tender stroking of my hair, i felt myself melt, letting go of worry and drifting away…back to a place where i am safe.

*****
when i woke up in the morning, i got progressively more melancholy. there were traces of him everywhere, more real than the strangers i was surrounded with. who is this man who haunts my dreams? this man more familiar to me than time? why does he give me so much solace in the shadows when i need it most, yet become an endless illusion in waking life? i strive so hard with so much faith to reach for him in this world, so that i can bring him out of the dream world into reality. but is it possible?

then i remember something. how, when i learned how to breathe underwater, it changed my life. my entire approach and perspective of the possibilities of life. maybe if i can take something i recognize in a dream and find it in the real world, i can basically show myself how to cross tangible things over from dreams to reality. i’ll create a new level of freedom. of reality. of destiny.

i need you so much closer…

the dream has been in the background of my mind all weekend. as i was riding the taxi home in my laconic mood, i remembered there’s a david gray song from one of his older albums i used to love but which i haven’t listened to in a while. found it on my ipod, album – lost songs. david’s a fellow old soul gemini. love the expression of his universe. realized how beautiful and fitting the song is for exactly what i’m feeling and experiencing lately, everything my book is about, especially how the symbology of a deep blue flame burning through shadows is one i always see in myself when i close my eyes.

perhaps this day is about how i lost this song, so that i could find it again when i needed it most.

this song is dedicated to you:

I went looking for someone I left behind
Yeah, but no one, just a stranger did I find
I never noticed, hadn’t seen it as it grew
The void between us where the flame turns blue

Through the lemon trees the diamonds of light
Break in splinters on the pages where I write
That if I lost you, I dont know what I’d do
Burn forever where the flame turns blue
Yeah if I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do
Burn forever where the flame turns blue

-david gray, flame turns blue

i’m back! happy to be home. updates later. must eat.