Thursday - 2008-0814-2230 - Rain - Caught in the Rain; New Tire and a Golden Youth; Off to Pick up the Restored Wind chime; "Tactile Seduction"; Environs; Visiting Friends; Home

Rain - Caught in the Rain Larger Image "Caught in the Rain" is from the TrekEarth site. The photographer is Animesh Ray. The site is the Point Reyes Lighthouse north of San Francisco. "Point Reyes is the windiest place on the Pacific Coast and the second foggiest place on the North American continent."

Wednesday morning, I wheeled off to pick up my new tire. Never one of my favorite experiences. At least the service reps are competent and fairly civil.

As I waiting for them to put the tire on, a youthful man of radiant beauty walked in and said I had lotion on the back of my neck. I told him my cats forgot to tell me. I'm not sure he caught that. Actually it was mousse, my hair defies control, so I've let it grow long and douse it with handfuls of mousse.

He reminded me of one of those characters you would see in a 50s catalog ad. Skin the color of burnished gold. Short blondish hair in the style of the Hardy Boys. A fairy-tale boy. A golden lad.

Yet, curiously, I felt no sexual electricity. I was far more fascinated by this moment of passing beauty like suddenly discovering a magnificent butterfly.

I had a unglazed ceramic wind chime that I bought many years ago. The top was the head of Boris god of the north wind with puffed cheeks. There are those whose knowledge of mythology is seriously lacking who said it resembled the former First Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, Nikita Khrushchev. And indeed there is a remarkable similarity, but Boris has puffier cheeks.

*****A wee bit of research tells me tha the correct spelling of the god of the north wind from Greek Mythology is "Boreas," one of the four "Anemoi" - "wind gods who were each ascribed a cardinal direction, from which their respective winds came, and were each associated with various seasons and weather conditions."

The "chimes" were a series of partially clay-coated oyster shells. Inside was a ring of about eight short cylindrical pieces of rolled clay.

Alas, over the years, it fell several times so that the bottom part of the head was missing a chunk, the shells were all gone as were the inside cylinders.

But it has always been one of my favorite pieces,so several months ago I decided to see if I could have it repaired. Over the years, I'd collected a number of pieces of pottery from a local artisan; actually I'd even been to high school with him.

He immediately recognized the artist as a fellow class mate from Delta State University. He indicated that the man was a genius at conceptualization but lousy at implementation. We had a long conversation that was one of the most remarkable I've had.

I left Boris with him with the direction to be as creative as he wanted. First, I had not idea what could be done with it. Second, I was very curious to see what he would do without any restrictions on my part.

(I was fairly certain I'd mentioned the first visit to the potter, but it does not show up in any of the pages. So I'm not sure when I did it. Several months ago is the best I can come up with.)

He did an amazing job. What before was obviously a wind chime is now a free-hanging piece of art. Instead of shells, he replaced the outside with rows of clay discs in a multitude of brownish and gold colors. The inside is now a long set of articulated sections that remind me of a ceramic skeleton. And he replaced the missing part of the skull with a decorated arch from which hang several rows of clay beads.

(Actually, I had to go outside and examine it with a flashlight to make sure my mental image was right.)

It possesses an irresistible allure as if it's waiting for you to touch it. The term "tactile seduction" comes to mind. A force like that of Tolkien's ring.

He said he spent a lot of time trying to conceive what he should do. In particular, the missing chunk of the head was especially difficult.

In case you're wondering about pecuniary issues, suffice it to say a batch of bills were transferred from my hand to his. In fact, I'd emptied my wallet to have the right amount, paid him, and walked out the door leaving the remainder. He was kind enough to call me, so when I got home there was a phone message waiting. I hate when I do this kind of crap. So I had to re-visit him the next day. His honesty is to be commended.

Given the price of petrol, I seldom stray too far from home, so this trip was definitely an adventure.

The area has recently become home to a new shopping center that greatly resembles an Italian village. There are actual vehicular and pedestrian streets surrounding blocks of stores. It has a very stylized feel to it with constant jazz coming from hidden speakers and security personnel ridding Electric Stand-Up Scooters.

I just now realized that I've had a mental connection floating in my subconscious but so low as to be almost imperceptible. It reminds me of the village in the 60s television series, "The Prisoner".

But this is only one of the projects under construction. So where there are projects under construction, it follows that the street will also be under construction. I'm almost certain that every street was being moved, repaved or altered.

Somewhere along the line, I realized I was in the vicinity of a tv production house where several of the people who used to work for "the evil empire" are now employed. I must admit finding it was not easy.

The building appears very nondescript from the outside, but the inside is marked by understated panache.

I tried to keep my visit brief. One to keep from going into my rambling song-and-dance act covering the last few years. Two, I was beginning to feel very fatigued. A combination of confusing street, bright sunlight, heat and sheer time. My circadian rhythms are set for about two hours of socializing, then I slowly starting morphing into the court jester, so that later I have no idea what I said.

"I said your mother enjoys farm animals?! Oh Christ! I just don't remember that!"

What did I do when I got home? I think I did a few chores and then took a nap. But I could be wrong. I remember feeding my feline companions who were in a royal snit because I was several hours late.

I remember feeling giddy, and took a couple of APAP Butalbital/Acetaminophen and a couple of Alprazolam. My guess is I slept for several hours, and then watched some edifying television such as teen slasher movie.

(In Thursday - 2008-0814-2230 / Out - 2008-0815-2300) This entry was written in multiple settings.

Pax! Erin go braugh! Je accuse...