June 19, 2014
I’m on the 42nd floor looking out over tops of other buildings with 42 or more floors, or stories, and the river and beyond to the small hills. The floor-to-ceiling, glassed-in balcony where I watch the construction of what looks intended to be a new building...most likely higher than mine. Below ground, there will be four additional levels. And it’s not parking. It’s being divided up into office or small, store-sized rooms. When construction is finished it will obscure a good part of my view. I’ve only lived in this place in Brisbane but two days and I’m protective of my view. It will be gone if ever I should come back. I’ll only have a small slice of the river and the initials on the tall buildings. The top of the glass walls open up and I stand against the glass, lower half. Just that small sheet of complete sheer, giving some complete balance and sense that I’m well in, a false sense of well being. If I could walk through, I would either fall or fly, “leap off the edge to see if you fall or fly.” The car horn in my head beeped. It’s funny they still call them horns. It’s a good thing too. That glass might have shattered or disappeared.
I am in Byron Bay. Tourists, sporting people, surfers...“Get around, get around, I get around…ooh-whee-ooh-whee-ooh.” Gazing at a tree with the most intense purple blooms. I think they’re called Tibouchina flowers. I haven’t gone anywhere, except far away. It took quite a long time--all day-to get from Brisbane to Byron Bay. I woke this morning and fantasized the inner flap of my book, reading about the author….“She now resides in Byron Bay with her son Beau Jarred and paints surfboards as a hobby. Beau teaches a world famous master class on summer and winter solstice on the beach inside the invisible pyramid that keeps the guitars demagnetized against the sand and pulling in all the beauty of creation. She works on her 12 acres on a new breed of purple tree.”
Tonight is a show. It’s funny they still call them shows. What is it I show? I show nothing but what I think I know, My Dear Ones, and just days away from knowing everything. Here from Oz and a galaxy away from Auntie Em.