a wellspring of love
september 15th, 2000

it's just been...one of those days. one of those days when your toes feel 
really nice in your socks, where a series of events just leaves you 
vibrating on a really nice level. or maybe it's just because i haven't 
picked up mrs. dalloway but for a few minutes today. (for some reason the 
book just depresses the hell out of me.)

i woke up, with Ash in one of those absolutely beautiful moods where she 
just wants to sit and play and chase you around and throw things at you 
and wave and laugh and dance and bounce balls and climb inside her toybox 
and throw all her toys in the floor. we played, we had breakfast, we 
watched bear in the big blue house which was themed entirely around love, 
which was really nice. it's so funny - when you're a child, you know 
*exactly* what love is. then you forget, or get in confused, and spend a 
great many years trying to figure it out. and then, after many trials and 
tribulations, you finally settle into this comfortable state of knowing 
exactly what love is again - and it's no different than you thought it was 
when you were a child. "you know that feeling when (someone) goes away for 
a while, and you're so sad because you miss them so much, and when you see 
them again you're so happy? well, that's love." but i really like that 
show. i think it's excellent for kids. it's fun, and educational, and 
teaches children important things, like conflict-resolution and 
decision-making, and helps children to feel good about themselves and to 
realize they are unique and special. but anyway.

so then i go to school. i drive with the windows down and the radio loud, 
like i always do when i'm by myself. and i was a fraction of a few minutes 
late to astronomy class. and then i fought with the spanish lab for an 
hour. (el gato es queso? WHAT?) and then i decided to manuver myself 
downtown to find someplace to get a bite to eat.

walking downtown, i realize how much i've missed downtown. it doesn't 
matter what town - the downtown area always has a certain sort of appeal, 
of crazy mad artists trying to revitalize the area, of things that are 
lost and too old to salvage, of train tracks and old men and concrete 
stories. it was nice. i stepped off into this little new agey store called 
"atlantis" and found The Perfect Blank Book and flipped through a few 
meditations for mothers with toddlers and looked at bumper stickers (one i 
really wanted to get - "i'm cleverly disguised as a responsible adult" - 
but then i realized it probably wasn't very fitting for me. mine would 
have to read something like: "i'm a cleverly disguised responsible 
adult.") i was told a new resturant had opened up a few doors down, and i 
should give them a try. "a mountain bistro" the sign read. why not?

so i nudged my way in. unsure on whether to sit down or wait to be seated, 
i sort of drifted among tables until a happy hippie lady voice asked, 
"will you be eating with us today? come in and make yourself comfortable." 
not, "a table for one" or "have a seat, i'll be with you in a second" - 
something infinitely more intimate, more personal. so i chose a seat and 
sat down with my notebook and listened to mazzy star. and mazzy star is 
always good.

it was poetry night, but i was too early for it. my lab would be taking 
place about the time the poetry readings started. i wasn't even sure if i 
*wanted* to read poetry anymore...not that i didn't want to read - i 
*love* reading - just not then, not like that, maybe. as if my poetry had 
suddenly become more personal. or maybe i was just scared, and cynical. 
maybe i was afraid i'd actually like it. but for whatever reason, the 
fates decided it was not for me, and so i ate my antipasto appetizer and 
read a little virginia woolf, underlining septimus's insanity in purple 
ink and scribbling footnotes in the margins.

i left, in love with the world and leaving a little too much of a tip, and 
set off towards my astronomy lab.

mid-route, i passed a long-haired boy in a malkavian tshirt. i saw him on 
the way, i smiled at his shirt, remembering my gaming days, and then i got 
closer, and then i passed him, turned around, and blurted out in 
disbelief:

"travis?!"

he played aegeus in "a midsummer night's dream" with me. when doug broke 
things off those few weeks before i made my transition to college, travis 
kept me smiling, let me cry on his shoulder, played games with me, gave me 
angels to watch over me. he was the one who introduced me to the term 
"sleep with angels" as a sort of blessing. i lost contact with him, as i 
have with nearly everyone from that era of my life. i had written him off 
in my head of one of those people i will always remember but will probably 
never see again. and there he was. it was really nice. it makes etsu feel 
a little less lonely, anyway. because as beautiful as it is there, and as 
much as i love it, i do miss having my friends around. (and who wouldn't?)

off to the planetarium. i have some scant memory from some time long ago 
of being in a planetarium, and being in love with the stars. all of these 
things being displayed, and planets, and comets - it was some sort of 
intense show, i think i was in nashville at the time, i don't remember - 
but wow, it was gorgeous. just beautiful. and so i sat back in the 
planetarium this evening with my little sky directory trying to break that 
ancient code of the heavens. and now i know pictures. it's what i've 
always wanted, as long as i can remember, to actually know the 
constellations, to actually be able to pick them out of the sky, to 
actually say "here is where this star is, and this star is named this." 
and now, this is exactly what i'm learning. the stars swallow everything 
whole, i stand amazed.

i took my route home with my lights on dim and my glasses on, seeing 
everything perfectly for a rare moment. listening to mazzy star, with the 
windows rolled down. singing along softly. using the steering wheel as an 
armrest, which as become my most recent bad habit. beautiful.

return home to the biggest hugs from the Ash childe. i was afraid i 
wouldn't get to see her before i went to sleep. but there she was - and 
indeed, she is still awake now, playing insomniac, and i'll regret this in 
the morning, but it's all well worth it now. i love days like these.

"you can search far and in hungry places for love. it is a great 
consolation to know that there is a wellspring of love within yourself." - 
john o' donohue