a rainy night spent in kneepads

i crouched on the floor, wood covered with a bright green tarp. spread out all around me was a vast array of things i have saved for just this kind of rainy night. the clock on the stove glowed a defiant red number, and i looked away quickly. numbers mean nothing tonight. i had spent the better part of the evening speaking with a friend of mine who just happens to understand this. the insane need for toothbrushing, the three a.m. outbursts of creative energy, the dawn light creeping in and stealing the magic. like a vampire, i feed off of the heavy raindrops and the slight creaking of the walls, the inaudible rhythm of my neighbors making love. i hung up the phone and took stock of the room. drums, guitars, an accordion, pastels, paints, an old suitcase, a few wooden wine boxes, a drawing of a goddess on a scrap of old foam board, a big piece of canvas for a mural piece, toolbox, spray adhesive, markers, jimi hendrix playing, little dog trying to get into everything, and me.crouching in kneepads wondering where to start. i have been working on breaking the mold...turning to subjects and mediums unfamiliar and challenging. the night swayed, pregnant with water and storm and emotion. i decided i needed to stand in it a little while, hoping to stave off this craving for a cigarette. i know it is unwise, but once in a great while it feels good to smoke outside in the rain. i had heard keef on the phone earlier take a drag and exhale. i admit, i held my breath and then exhaled when he did. strange things, those little cancer sticks.

next door ashley agreed to have a cig with me, and we all shared some wine and some words. i watched them like they were a movie, parker holding her on his lap under the big umbrella. the rain came down and we sat there in our little island, smoking and speaking our minds. it is such an inspriation to me to see her and parker in love the way they are. a perfect fit. i found my next project.