Ivarius Faldine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
climbingivy) wrote2007-03-04 12:51 pm
climbingivy) wrote2007-03-04 12:51 pm
Entry tags:
Memories of old lives
A whim took me over to DeviantArt. Originally I thought to try and find more artwork by a specific artist, instead I found a work that looks as though I stood there and let myself be a painter's subject. I always had an odd curiosity about that; what it might be like to be painted. The Girl With A Pearl Earring captured my fascination for weeks. It's a little too late for that now, unless Lexi's grandparents want to go out of their way to have her painted. I could try to hang around in her eyes, perhaps. No one would be able to tell, but I don't mind. I'm happy enough, living with August and Crysania with my gardening and my music. I've lived twice, which I see as plenty.
Speaking of music and past lives, I uploaded Yağmurlar, by Şebnem Ferah. I never learned Turkish during either of my lives, and now I want to. My heart aches to know what she's saying, to understand how someone can sound so beautifully sad. She reminds me of the melancholy that settles on grey rainy days. Have you ever had one of those days? I've watched the water trickle down the pane and sent my mind thousands of miles from home. Gray skies, gray streets, the clipping of hooves on cobbled streets. Hello again, Louisiana, I miss your radiant springs but not your miasma of yellow fever.
Wales, I miss you too.
I'm not truly homesick. One day Lexi will be in England and we might be able to go look around Wales. I'd enjoy that. Louisiana will not look like it did a century ago; I don't want to go there. I'd miss the lanterns and the plantation homes for their familiarity. January wouldn't be there waiting for me. He wouldn't recognize me now, even if he were there. I don't miss the tuberculosis, oh no, and only on rare occasions do I miss the laudanum. Yesterday morning could have used a respite, at least. (I'm wistful, forgive me. I would not again take laudanum, I know how addictive it is. Pain has no hold on me here.) In sum, I miss familiarity. I knew my way around New Orleans, I played the violin and made enough to support my rent and keep laudanum in fairly decent supply. Living a second time with lycanthropy ruined what feelings I ever had of truly belonging anywhere for any great length of time. Remus changed that, for which I'm ever grateful.
It is enough to have a home now. I know my "who'swhat" and how to live peacefully with one of the most argumentative people yet alive. :)
p.s. yes I refer to August there.
Speaking of music and past lives, I uploaded Yağmurlar, by Şebnem Ferah. I never learned Turkish during either of my lives, and now I want to. My heart aches to know what she's saying, to understand how someone can sound so beautifully sad. She reminds me of the melancholy that settles on grey rainy days. Have you ever had one of those days? I've watched the water trickle down the pane and sent my mind thousands of miles from home. Gray skies, gray streets, the clipping of hooves on cobbled streets. Hello again, Louisiana, I miss your radiant springs but not your miasma of yellow fever.
Wales, I miss you too.
I'm not truly homesick. One day Lexi will be in England and we might be able to go look around Wales. I'd enjoy that. Louisiana will not look like it did a century ago; I don't want to go there. I'd miss the lanterns and the plantation homes for their familiarity. January wouldn't be there waiting for me. He wouldn't recognize me now, even if he were there. I don't miss the tuberculosis, oh no, and only on rare occasions do I miss the laudanum. Yesterday morning could have used a respite, at least. (I'm wistful, forgive me. I would not again take laudanum, I know how addictive it is. Pain has no hold on me here.) In sum, I miss familiarity. I knew my way around New Orleans, I played the violin and made enough to support my rent and keep laudanum in fairly decent supply. Living a second time with lycanthropy ruined what feelings I ever had of truly belonging anywhere for any great length of time. Remus changed that, for which I'm ever grateful.
It is enough to have a home now. I know my "who'swhat" and how to live peacefully with one of the most argumentative people yet alive. :)
p.s. yes I refer to August there.