the deep, sweet, earthy draw from a clove cig never felt more right. as i searched the van for one of sarah grace's cds, i had stumbled upon an old fav. once the kids were safely delivered to their daddy, i played the familiar fav as loud as i could stand. lenny kravitz. blaring nostalgia drowned out the constant chatter in my brain, transporting me to a time before-children. lenny and cloves: smoky swirls inflated my lungs and my mind remembered exactly where i was, what i had on, how i felt, how the music moved me, how the dizzying clove helped me. welcome back- mommy's little helper.
this mommy has historically had many little helpers. but alas, mommy is now on her own for the most part. all i have left are my cloves, my *team*, and my waxy wings. oh yeah, let's not forget lenny...
i have a distinct memory of listening to lenny, drinking too much wine, smoking too many cloves, and wondering why my attention somehow focused on the log walls. living in a small cabin with only open windows for relief from the heat and a wood burning stove for relief from the cold, i hadn't felt more at home than at this moment. less was definitely more for me. but something wasn't right. the log walls seemed to be wavy... like in a funhouse mirror. i continued to try to refocus my vision, but sure enough- the walls seemed to be moving like the tides. that was more than ten years ago.
allowing lenny to serenade me recently, i sipped a soy latte in a parking lot as i took deep, breathy drags off my clove and attempted to disappear for a moment into the past. not completely gone, my attention was pulled back into my present as i noticed the sky filling with a swarm of gnats. upon more careful investigative focussing, i realized that nothing filled the sky- nor was anything actually swarming. it was the dejavu of the tidal logs- only this time it was scurrying dots that filled the sky. hmmmm, perhaps my wax is beginning to melt.
seeing stars. sounds fun, unless you are actually experiencing it. retrospectively, i understand that the tidal logs were actually my compromised, dizzying perspective. too little food causes too many shooting stars, which can add up to some pretty realistic-looking vision distortions. fuck me and that damned fragile wax.
seriously, stop calling me icarus.
