paisleypiper's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- reading milton and thinking I used to think Dorothy, Christina and I had something in common. Dorothy traveled far away only to discover that her experience was a dream. Everything she ever wanted could be found in her own back yard. What Dorothy experienced she did not see; what she recognized became her reality. What enticed Christina out into the world, away from the house and barn? What did she read in the hill? What did she know from the wind? Try not to care or cry. Look up at the sky; you cannot fly. Through motion and sound, do films answer for us the questions asked in paintings? The more we know the harder it is to become what, in ourselves, we want to see. I look out the front window sometimes with a longing for something I do not think I have seen. Searching the outside to better understand why I am unwilling to see the world around me grow thin. I look out as ashes and dust look in. A guitar can never be perfectly in tune � every note on every string. Tuning the guitar is an art of compromise. Like in all arts, those who can appreciate the difference, must also live with the burden of that difference. Those who cannot, accept what is every day. Renaissance musicians retuned their string instruments specifically for each piece they played. I still have not found my way off that hill, out of site from the stark, white house reminding me what is Gothic about American life. Rule. Hard work. Stern. Puritan. Guilt. Certain death. Fair strife. I don�t need to see the image to remind me of how I felt at ten staring into the poster of the girl on the hill that hung in my basement play area. I think I knew all along that my dreams were as impossible as Christina expanding her world. This same feeling is still inside me splintery and rough. Sooner or later every one wakes up and finds that their dreams and their nightmares are composed of every day stuff. 11:19 p.m. - 2002-08-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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