Hot as blazes. Hot as Hell...Hades on the back of your neck, the sun on your bare arms, the white light in your eyes. It has always been my memory that the end of July is when we near the climax of our summer heat. I have said over and over how much I love the heat. Thus, today's heatwave is a handsel for days to come. It is a good luck token, a talisman of the coming fall...
Maybe I am getting ahead of myself but I think it is useful to keep one's mind in a forward moving motion whenever one can... although I am certain in a few words I will contradict myself...
What am I dreaming of for these last summer days? For the days to come? More balmy days...more secret scandals... more mindless infatuations...I like the wide-eyed lack of realism these 90 days sink into my soul. I love being brayed to by the beguine and shouting back in quiet moments of fantastical reverie... Outings to the museums...attacked by colors and blackness; high brow or otherwise...
This weekend the Tim Burton exhibit was so phenomenal. I cannot describe enough how immensely moved I was to read his original hand written outline for the opening scene of Edward Scissorhands. The whole exhibit was either exploding with color or mystifying in blackness. Then I went to the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary art and saw a large exhibit about the history of street art. It was steamy and crowded inside the gallery but the artwork was so arresting and I felt as though I was one of the Warriors scouring the streets of New York City. I love going to galleries...
So my mind and imagination are lured by the wondrous green trees, the extraordinary and delicate fragility of a spider's web, the sensual darkness and coolness of a movie theater...waiting in the afternoon matinee for a superhero to whisk you away to bizarre and extravagant adventures... So lured am I by the illusory qualities of summer and stars and moonlight...
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