Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Analyze This

My kids are always telling me
that I have a vivid imagination.
I think that's partly because I relate my
many dreams and nightmares to them-
usually getting a squinty-eyed response
that suggests they may presume
I have a screw (or two) loose.

Maybe they're right.

One dream I specifically remember
is the one where I trekked up a
big green mountain and picked
a dozen black roses.
Upon arriving back at home,
I placed them in a vase in the
center of my dining room table.
Within a matter of minutes,
they began to wilt,
the petals falling on the table top
and turning into soft mewing kittens.
Then I gathered all the felines
into a basket and carried them
back to the mountain top.

I am sure there's a book
(or a shrink) out there somewhere
who could analyze that for me.
Yet, I really prefer
just to enjoy the dream-
the sweet movie of imagination
that visits me in my sleep.

I've done some rather strange things
in my artistic experiments, too.
Once I tried to sculpt a face mask
using dryer lint and glue.
I've made butterflies and dragonflies
from leaves and sticks and seeds.

I've even tried my hand at an American Flag quilt.
It was a conglomeration of calico's
and florals and twenty shades of red, white and blue.
I used to have it pinned up on the wall in my kitchen.
Once my Cajun sister-in-law asked about it-
(it being rather strange and unusual)-
and I told her proudly that it was
my first attempt at quilting.

"Awww..." she said, with a coddling smile, "How old were you?"

"Forty-nine,"I said dryly.

Her smiled faded.

Contrary to my other fears in life,
my imagination knows no boundaries.
I tend to collect fabric and ribbon
and buttons and beads and seed pods
and feathers-
and any strange object that grabs my attention.
I'm just a magpie, I guess.

I dreamt once that lightning bugs
came in 64 brilliant colors
and each color had their own musical note.
That night I watched them
light up the sky like a rainbow-
twinkling like miniature Christmas lights-
playing a beautiful symphony
amid a warm summer breeze.

If that makes me crazy,
then don't tighten my loose screws.

Embracing my imagination
is the only thing
that makes me sane.