August 2, 2009
I have freshly painted peach walls with white trim. I have translucent white curtains swaying, slow dancing with the wind. Smooth wooden floors bounce the sunlight onto the peach walls. New, warm, inviting. A new room to match my new beginnings. New space to breath, to dream... to list, to plan. The romantic notions of beginnings and endings always seem to wrap themselves up with the unromantic practicalities. Arranging the to-do list of items that never change - grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning, oil changes. New beginnings always come with organizational hazards, planning dates, re-configuring communications... I just want to dream. I just want to lay back on my bed, stare at my peach walls, and watch my dreams paint themselves across the ceiling.