Lucid Waking

Archive for January, 2009

Flowers and Chrome (Part I)

        The conference room’s long mahogany table was cluttered with duffels, coats, and purses. Cases of food and water and garbage bags had been slung on top of the luggage, stopped from sliding off by the rolling chairs lining the side of the table. The walls were a pale blue; though it was meant to be a hopeful color it succeeded in adding to the monochrome monotony of office life. The ceiling had seven small lights, all set to a dimmer switch near the main door in the front of the room. An expensive projector hung from the center of the ceiling and pointed menacingly at a spot under the rolled up white screen.
        Positioned in various spots against the wall, under the table, and in the isle lay fifteen young women. The soft murmur of breathing broken only by a few delicate snores gave away their presence in the dark room. Leah slipped out of her sleeping bag without unzipping it and stood up, trying to gage the distance to the door without being able to see it. Unluckily for her, she was positioned closest to the far wall as possible and her bladder was starting to protest her indecisiveness. She cautiously put out a toe, as if testing the temperature of water, and gently stepped down onto carpeting. She repeated the process until she reached the door, proud to have not woken anyone, but all the more feeling the urgency in which she needed to reach the bathroom. She slipped out the door to the quiet office area, past several rows of cubicles, through glass double doors to the main lobby. The closer bathrooms for the employees were locked for the night, but the office staff that had allowed her and the other girls to stay had graciously left the public bathrooms in the lobby open.
        The cold tile pricked her bare feet as she carefully pattered across the open space in front of the receptionist’s desk. She didn’t like how open the room felt and how anyone who walked by the glass front of the building could see her in her pajamas. Luckily no one was out. She opened the door to the bathroom and stopped, leaving the door open so that the light flooded out to illuminate the face of the large clock behind the desk: 12:55. She turned swiftly into the brightly light public bathroom and blinked several times to adjust to the light.
        She smelled the odor of burning tobacco before she saw it and figure out who it was before her watering eyes could focus. Melanie was leaning back against the wall, her eyes half closed watching Leah adjust to the light. She remained like a statue, her hand barely clutching the cigarette leaning over a glass ashtray she probably brought herself.
        “Are you allowed to smoke in here?” Leah asked scornfully.
        Melanie moved to stand upright and shrugged. “There’s a fan right there,” she said pointing at the ceiling. “I don’t see the problem.”
        A toilet flushed and the stall door opened. Susanna stepped across the room and turned on the water neatly. “I don’t think you’ll get her to stop if she’s catching breaks while everyone else is asleep.”
        Leah entered the stall and said nothing.
        “You’re too goody-goody, Suzy, to understand.”
        “I’m not judging you,” Susanna said ripping a length of paper towel to dry her hands. “I’m just saying that Leah shouldn’t be so surprised.”
        “I’m not the only one who snuck in cigarettes anyway.”
        Leah exited the stall and moved to wash her hands. Melanie exhaled a bit of smoke upward towards the fan and then looked down at her slippers. Susanna smiled at Leah and redid the ponytail in her short blond hair.
        “It’s all right,” she said to neither girl in particular. She reached for the door and exited the bathroom with a soft creek of the hinges. Leah ripped off a piece of paper towel, dried her hands, and left in the same sudden way into the darkness.
        She stood outside the bathroom door while her eyes adjusted. As she stood, she could hear a soft whirring noise from a short ways off, which she quickly dismissed as an errant heating unit. The sound off the office doors opening echoed through the lobby and Leah barely saw the outline of her friend slipping through them. She moved to follow Susanna, but stopped as a glint of bright blue light caught the corner of her eye. She snapped her head in that direction but saw nothing. She stood in her tracks, staring at the spot, waiting for the glint of light again. Finally, she heard a click and then the whirring got louder.
        The next thing she knew, she woke up, and something very heavy rested on her chest, pinning her down. Two blue lights were looking down at her, very much like eyes. They blinked off and on. She reached out a hand to the object on her chest and touched warm, humming metal. She tried standing up, but the weight on her chest pushed hard against her.
        “Who are you?” a male computer generated voice asked her.
        “Leah Hirsch,” she said. “I’m staying with the rest of the girls in…” she paused not wanting to give any location away to an entity she didn’t know was friendly or not.
        “Why are you here?” it asked.
        “We’re traveling to collect plant specimens for a university’s greenhouse collection.”
        The lights turned and she saw the blue beams aim for the ground near her shoulder. “It is good to have a purpose. Would you agree?”
        “What do you mean?”
        “I was built as an information unit, so I know everything that there is to know. Nature always triumphs over technology. She will be there long after technology has stopped working. So why am I here if not to die?”
        “We all die,” Leah said. “And please, get off me.”
        “I can not do that,” he said.
        “Why not?”
        “If the guard robots see you here they will kill you.”
        “What? I was told we were allowed in the lobby.”
        “You are not in the lobby,” he said with a tint of guilt.
        “Then where am I?”
        “Please do not be angry. I just wanted to talk to you.”
        Leah sighed. “Isn’t there anyway we can talk where I am comfortable?”
        The machine whirred for seconds that felt like hours. Her chest was aching under his weight and her skin itched due to uncomfortable heat of working machinery. The floor under her smelled like cleaning chemicals and was stiff from being walked on. Finally the weight lifted and she was pulled up to her feet. A hand grabbed hers and led her around a labyrinth of hallways to a room. The robot shut the door with a click and turned on the lights.

Sky

        “What color do you suppose the sky is?” she asked, staring up at the metal dome arching above the buildings in the center of the city.
        Sixty years ago, he might have been able to tell her, although his perception would have been thrown off. He was only twenty-six, so he had always known the dome. He felt safe within the man-made weather globe, protected from pollution and disease. Traveling was done by tunnel systems, lined with metal to protect people from radiation and acid ground water. Everything in the dome was paradise and there was no reason to go looking outside it. All the causes of the problems outside were fixed; there were no cars, garbage, or unnecessary burning. Everything was recyclable or electronic and anything that needed to be disposed of was burned in a large furnace and the ashes sent outside. Mostly, though, no one bothered to worry about that.
        He took note of the falling light from the sun lamps on the side of her profile he could see. “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “Blue?”

Ode to the little Things in Life

Fresh apple cider and peppermint tea;
Hot chocolate and raspberries;
Petite fours and potpourri;
Sandwiches with cucumbers and cream cheese;

Teddy bears and porcelain dolls;
Pretty glass bottles and pink lip-gloss;
Venetian masks and a music box;
Books, music, and striped knee socks;

Forests, water, fire, and ice,
Roses, swans, cats, and mice,
Presents, snow, pointe shoes, and dance,
Drawing pencils, dresses, and a second chance,

The ability to push your demons away,
To always look forward to another day,
To breath and stretch and feel awake,
And to have many opportunities to take

Winter Photos

Larger view/more info –> click on photo

Info on prints –> click here

Doll, Entropy, and Untitled

Larger view/more info –> click on photo/picture

Info on prints –> click here

Jack and the Beanstalk

Larger view/more info –> click on picture

Info on prints –> click here

Appalacian Spring by Aaron Copland (AKA The Masked Savior)

        The sky burst into fantastic tangerine oranges, rosy pinks, and butterfly yellows as the sun slowly rose over the mountainous horizon, spreading its golden fingers over the rocks. Samantha Bean watched the sun as long as she dared, watching the dark navy of the night dissipate into oasis blue. Wind quietly blew dust through the valleys and a few buzzards floated on the air; their bodies were dark splotches in the blue sky. She strained her eyes towards the spot she thought they were circling, but she couldn’t see anything but the red-orange rocks. She whistled to her horse and snapped the reigns, leading her steed towards the spot she supposed something dead was laying.
        The buzzards had landed on the body when she got there, neatly picking away at the flesh. She got down quickly and walked over to their breakfast, trying to make as much noise as possible. The birds flitted from one place to another trying to maintain their grasp on the food while still avoiding danger. She ignored them and bent over their breakfast. What she first thought was an animal, ended up more human shaped than she would have liked. She gently kicked the body to roll it over so she could see its face.
        “Drew Parker?!”
        The boy looked parched and she easily surmised he had collapsed from dehydration. A pit of panic formed in her stomach as she shakily called over her horse and clumsily untied her water skin. She gently poured some into his mouth and tried to dust the sand off of his face.
        “Damn it,” she swore quietly and reached for a handkerchief from her sack to wipe the sand and blood away from his mouth and eyes. “If the sheriff saw you like this, he’d kill me.”
        Drew coughed. He tried to look up, but shut his eyes harder against the harsh mid-morning sun. Samantha sighed and took off her hat, placing it clumsily on his head.
        “Here,” she said handing him her water skin, “take a drink.”
        She sat him up so that he could regain his balance. After a few unsteady seconds he looked at her, his tired face turning to shock and then fear. He chugged down her water and handed it back to her quickly.
        “Ms. Bean…” He tried to stand up, but she put her hand out to stop him.
        “Don’t stand up yet, you’re not quite ready.” She put her water skin back in her sack and sat down next to him. “So, why are you here anyway?”
        He blushed. “I was looking for Will Carmichael, sort hoping to run into the Masked Savior on the way…”
        “You were looking for the most infamous criminal and bounty hunter in the United States…why?”
        “You don’t know how boring it is working in a bank!”
        “Maybe not, but it’s a lot safer than looking for danger.”
        He glared at her. “I’m sixteen, I can look after myself.”
        “And look at where that got you. The buzzards were starting to pick at you…I’m not even sure how you’re alive right now.”
        “Well, what are you doing out here?”
        “Scouting,” she said. “Don’t ask anything else, it’s none of your business.”
        He frowned, but didn’t ask. He stood up slowly and stared at the ground, obviously hoping his head would stop spinning.
        “Well what are we doing next?” Drew asked cynically. “I’m not going back to town.”
        “You’re coming with me,” she said in a tone that let him know he had no chance of arguing with her.
        “I…” he paused looking over his shoulder to the expanse of dust. He turned back to her and started to decline, but she had already gotten on her horse and started back the other way.
        “If you don’t come, you can keep walking.”
        Samantha felt a small pull in her saddle and an extra weight on her horse. She knew the going back to town was going to be slower, but she couldn’t risk having him come along. She didn’t want his death on her conscience, either. There was a lot of burden in being a natural hero. She hoped that Will Carmichael wouldn’t be too far away from her by the time she actually got around to pursuing him.
        “Ms. Bean, do you know the Masked Savior? Is that who you’re scouting for?”
        She rolled her eyes. Drew had always loved the stories she fabricated, and she shouldn’t have been so surprised to find him trying to have adventures of his own.
        “Don’t be silly,” she said. I am the Masked Savior.

(Although this piece is very loosely based off "Appalacian Spring," you can still listen to it here.)