Ceiling Wax  [12 Dec 2004|01:48pm]

Walking on the ceiling days are days when you wake up at a 
different angle. The air is sharper and the sun sparkles 
everywhere. Sometimes you engage in a bit of housework 
because, like the ceiling, you are noticing your space in a 
way that bypasses you during the gray drudging hatsandnewspaper 
days.

The record player or oldies radio station give pulse to the 
ceiling day. At some point, you find yourself on your back, 
gazing at the stucco and imagining what if. Life on the ceiling, 
climbing over that doorway to get into the tray ceilinged bedroom, 
languishing amongst rolling and pitching white.

Sometimes these days morph into other imaginings, such as the 
underthesea life and the ifiwereacat life. These days are always 
good days, days which strip the world and leave bare only you, the 
rare essential you. Memory is rare and free, simple household tasks 
become feats of great art and achievement.

Bathtubs and showers, particularly those which feature muddled 
glass windows, are useful catalysts when seeking a ceiling day. The 
only sure entrance, however, is in the waking.

Waking will determine everything about your day if you take the time 
to consider it.