Love In The Time Of Insomnia

Just finished reading "Love in the Time of Cholera". Awesome in every heartbreaking way imaginable.

So, yea, I have insomnia tonight. It's a PMS insomnia. A frequent but not chronic condition. Infinitely preferable to a migraine. Doh! I figured it's better to just get up and write for a while rather than laying in the dark listening to Don's snoring that sounds like a crying cat on the exhale. But who am I to complain about snoring?

A three-quarter moon has risen in the east. The little LCD clocks on the stove and microwave are the only electrically lit objects. There's my little glow-in-the-dark St. Clare, patron saint of TVs, and Lila's glow-in-the-dark star stickers on her door and her glow-in-the-dark soccer ball outside her door. And the sound of Moose, Lila's hamster, running her nocturnal laps on her wheel. But I'm downstairs now in the well lit office. I'd log onto Napster and listen to the new release of "West Side Story", but I'm right below our bedroom and the walls in this house are....how you say in French...like papier.

So I started on this Creative Journaling class. I bought a 11x14 spiral sketchbook, a big box of cray-pas, and some fancy expensive markers that move like paint. I already have a ba-zillion Prismacolors. My first drawings are painful. Stuff I don't feel comfortable blogging about. Stuff I don't want any Schmo on the planet to be privy to. But it felt good to draw it.

Carla and I went to a dance performance Saturday night. It was a variety of dances, Indian, Thai, belly, and Flamenco. We really enjoyed it. The Thai dancer was this cute thing, no more than 4 feet tall. She looked to be in her early 20's. Her last dance had technical difficulties starting the music. She excused herself from the stage (which was just an area partitioned and sanctified by a line of marigolds), re-entered a moment later...carrying her laptop. Talk about your surreal images. She crossed the stage with an amazing smile, glittering and animated in her traditional costume like a sugar decoration, laptop open, got the glitch worked out by putting the microphone right up to her laptop and danced a folk dance of her ancestors like neither time nor technology could stop that story from being told. Funny how all four of those styles of dances had curiously similar hand gestures.

Ok, I guess I'll attempt that whole sleeping thing again.

O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my sense in forgetfulness?

William Shakespeare, Henry IV, part 1

The time signatures on this blog are screwie. It's really 12:36 am. Don will wake me up in 5 hours.