What is the BrainHeart Beat?

Trish Szymanski is a multi-genre artist whose word includes
Performance, as actor/director, singer, singer/songwriter, musician, performance artist
Installed work, as conceptual innovator
Music, as songwriter, singer, percussionist
Writing, as published and constant writer of nonfiction and fiction, poetry, script, essay.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Another dream.

I woke up the first time around 8 this morning and thought of him right away. I went to the bathroom and back to bed, fell asleep, and we picked up where we had left off. Part of me knew I was dreaming and was delighted that we were continuing.

I was who I am right now. He was quite a bit younger than I, just barely within my stated acceptable age range, very fair with strawberry blond hair and lots of freckles. The freckles figure prominently in my memory. He has a sweet face, unfamiliar, no one I know.

We had met somewhere just that night, it must have been my home, though it didn't look familiar. There were others around but everyone else left, one by one, and he hung around and it was alright with me. I was occupied with something in which he had no interest, or maybe I just didn't share it with him. But it was easy between us, which I figured was why he stayed.

It was getting late, and I sensed he wanted to lay down together. I did too, but some activity on my lap was taking my attention. I'm guessing it was a laptop; maybe I was writing a poem.

He kept busy while I did my thing. Now and then, he came to me and smiled, or asked if I was done yet, or massaged my neck a little. I enjoyed his goodhearted nagging. I would smile and say nothing or, "Soon."

Once more, he came to me and rubbed his face against mine, like a cat. I rubbed back at him. But I wasn't quite ready and my fingers kept moving. He gave up and lay down in the next room, in the dark. I could see him there, curled up on his side, resting. I considered taking off the long, soft, dark blue dress I wore. I walked over to him and as I sat, he reached out and pulled me down. I lay down, on my side too, lying in front of him, and we spooned, his one arm under my head, the other over my hip and my belly.

I think this dream was partly inspired by a couple of Facebook exchanges recently, but as I thought about it this morning, what struck me was the familiar feeling of calm, feeling present, safe, of confidence that all is well, and when I'm done with the task at hand, I'll get to lay down and rest in the warmth of a friend.

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