Aero the Taylor
thankfully, they did not ask why i wanted this particular small rustic garden house.
shaded with peach colored parasols, and a big flowered hat, an avoidance of sharing gazes.
but good men had not shown any urgency or request 2 unlock my secret, nor intervened to spin the fringe within the distilled shade - perhaps what ultimately grabbed me was the sound of no voice, and their startling willingness to smile and then just give whatever so graciously.
(he simply snaps his fingers and tossles his tassles and it's done) somehow remotely gliding, a gilded thread in a burlap weave in the shrouds. with an exaggerated (like jack n. as 'the Joker')
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| Jack Nicholson as The Joker |
smile in some clownish bent of the stones logo. compared to mick jagger the eyes were different, he had eyes of a hawk. these are cat-like.
later twas a sparkler to realize that i was watching them the whole time, like a fox scouting feral cats, but i said, the ivory apricot cream was overwhelming! like a net of cloud filaments and they stick like flypaper
and i never think when that happens, never yet have i had time to consider exactly what it is that i am 'doing'. Until now—hit me up again and see what happens — living in a cream bath house of flowered filigree, there's not a lot of good ways to explain what happens with time.
a few days later, the house arrived, a dollhouse really, painted pink and white and finely architectured to resemble a quaint frisco thirty million victorian homestead. i'd specified electricity in a dedicated line so these two guys in dark blue tshirts with belts of tools sidewound on their hips were puttering around, climbing ladders to the roof, pulling out the solar panel controls, zapping something, switching some wires. they did not speak in any way, simply were 100% into the work and that impressed me, as the dalai lama would, maybe a little less. but then, it could also be simpleminded to keep doing what you r doing when you know what u r doing and do it so well u r like a finetuned compass but because of that you don't do everything else...
the zen master laughs in my memory, sitting behind the desk, holding squiggly fingers to his head indicating a rooster crown chiming "Koo Koo! Koo Koo!" and it always seems a fine beginning
