this dumb Christmas season really has me up in arms. there's a girl i know, sort of a colleague, who i started to mad-respect a while ago, who then became an amazing, first-rate friend. i love it when that happens, as it really almost sort of never does these days. anyhow, she was the only one i really wanted to get a gift for this year - other than for my nearest and dearest, of course - so i've had my eye out for a while, but i have to admit, i am just NOT a good gift-giver. finally, i bought her a little glass perfume bottle like the kind my mom used to fill with rose oil when i was a kid and filled it with a little bit of sand from the Sahara desert that i keep in a glass Coke bottle from the time i was there.
what a time that was. the Sahara is like practicing tantric yoga by accident, those flowing creamy dunes for as far as the eye can see. you're in the midst of this grand white silence, gazillions of tiny pieces of rock from time inconceivable blasted into particulars so minute that if you swallowed one you'd probably never ever ever even notice, yet get gazillions of them together and you might be saying good night forever in the face of some of those.
sand is just no joke.
you know what else i like about it? take one tiny particle of sand at the west end of a beautiful beach somewhere. now, imagine another, similar-minded, gleaming particle of sand on the east end of aforementioned beautiful beach somewhere. technically speaking, these two wouldn't have a chance in heaven, or the Universe, or whatever Nirvana it is that particles of sand subscribe to, being, in this instance, significantly separated by both distance and mass [those gazillion of other particles of sand], but look at it like this:
- first of all, they're not really separated. yes, they might have a gazillion other little particles of sand pressed between them, but being that they're all pressed so tightly together that you might as well not even count that space, does it all even matter then? it's like they're already pressed up, one against the other.
- secondly, if you don't want to look at it like that, consider those two same particles in the following fashion: let's say they really are separated the west from the east end, with a gazillion other particles of obnoxious sand in betwixt. well, the beauty of sand is that it's always shifting. one day, it might be on a dune in the Sahara, and the next it might be making out with the sea. granted, perhaps i'm taking a bit of time-lapse liberty here, but i'm sure you get the drift (PARDON the pun). ANYHOW, along those lines, in terms of constantly shifting sand, and time and earth and all of that, who's to say that those two luckless particles of such-separated sand might not just end up running into each other like it's all out nobody's biz? just like that, and then it wouldn't even matter if there had previously been a gazillion other particles of sand in between them or not, if there had been a whole world or an ocean, it just wouldn't matter because right then, there, now, or at least for that moment, they'd be together.
i met someone so very very very dear to me at a place called "Ammos", or "sand", in Greek. being a person who has to read into the metaphysics and further symbolism of every breath and step i make in life, i've long pondered the meaning of meeting at such a place, and now, some time later, i finally understand.
fuck, i love sand. it's so tiny, yet so grand, and all of that into one tiny glass perfume bottle.
here is some sand stuck to my toes after i went to the beach right after a pedicure.
merry Christmas, Jess.
what a time that was. the Sahara is like practicing tantric yoga by accident, those flowing creamy dunes for as far as the eye can see. you're in the midst of this grand white silence, gazillions of tiny pieces of rock from time inconceivable blasted into particulars so minute that if you swallowed one you'd probably never ever ever even notice, yet get gazillions of them together and you might be saying good night forever in the face of some of those.
sand is just no joke.
you know what else i like about it? take one tiny particle of sand at the west end of a beautiful beach somewhere. now, imagine another, similar-minded, gleaming particle of sand on the east end of aforementioned beautiful beach somewhere. technically speaking, these two wouldn't have a chance in heaven, or the Universe, or whatever Nirvana it is that particles of sand subscribe to, being, in this instance, significantly separated by both distance and mass [those gazillion of other particles of sand], but look at it like this:
- first of all, they're not really separated. yes, they might have a gazillion other little particles of sand pressed between them, but being that they're all pressed so tightly together that you might as well not even count that space, does it all even matter then? it's like they're already pressed up, one against the other.
- secondly, if you don't want to look at it like that, consider those two same particles in the following fashion: let's say they really are separated the west from the east end, with a gazillion other particles of obnoxious sand in betwixt. well, the beauty of sand is that it's always shifting. one day, it might be on a dune in the Sahara, and the next it might be making out with the sea. granted, perhaps i'm taking a bit of time-lapse liberty here, but i'm sure you get the drift (PARDON the pun). ANYHOW, along those lines, in terms of constantly shifting sand, and time and earth and all of that, who's to say that those two luckless particles of such-separated sand might not just end up running into each other like it's all out nobody's biz? just like that, and then it wouldn't even matter if there had previously been a gazillion other particles of sand in between them or not, if there had been a whole world or an ocean, it just wouldn't matter because right then, there, now, or at least for that moment, they'd be together.
i met someone so very very very dear to me at a place called "Ammos", or "sand", in Greek. being a person who has to read into the metaphysics and further symbolism of every breath and step i make in life, i've long pondered the meaning of meeting at such a place, and now, some time later, i finally understand.
fuck, i love sand. it's so tiny, yet so grand, and all of that into one tiny glass perfume bottle.
here is some sand stuck to my toes after i went to the beach right after a pedicure.
merry Christmas, Jess.
