Tuesday, November 21, 2006

My bounty is as boundless as the sea...

You're in my blood like holy wine,
you taste so bitter and so sweet,
I could drink a case of you, darling
and I would still be on my feet.
(Joni Mitchell)

So I am sauntering along the hard bright streets of Nusantara, whistling a solitary tune, when before my amazed eyes, the trees start bleeding golden light onto the pavements. I glance around to see if anyone else has noticed, but the people continue to shuffle along, clothed in the greyness of their thoughts.

Ah me,
Life is joyful.

I reach out and the light spills onto my fingers, the texture of warm honey, or Sheila Majid's voice singing Lagenda. Or Dick Lee singing Bengawan Solo. (Listen to it Jack, there's gamelan and it sounds wonderful)

Bengawan Solo,
riwayatmu kini,
Sedari dulu jadi,
perhatian insani...


Strains of Nella Fantasia. A joyful noise. Oh, this is uplifting with a vengeance. All the colours coming down to kiss me. People look up and smile. Hey Pink. Hey Green. Hey Cerulean Blue. Oh, look at Yellow there. Ah Orange. How I've always loved you. And Red, where's Red? There's Red. With Purple. I used to love Purple better when I was a kid. Purple was then my favourite. Whatever happened to us, Purple? She smiles and waves gently. Melambai-lambai. Belaian jiwa. That sort of thing.

And there are smiles. I can pick out smiles in the crowd. Cloud. Something like that. What is happening to me? I can't take it.

A surfeit of waterfall and wine. Jane Austen waltzing by with Virginia Woolf. And was that..., no it wasn't. Must be a trick of the light.

I have to go now. In vacant or in pensive mood. The air smells of Christmas and there are cookies in the oven - gingersnaps and chocolate bars and butter cookies. And then there are the various wrappings and ribbons and presents strewn around in various states of glorious disarray.

Maybe I would be more coherent if I had daffodils.

That would be a glorious life; to addict oneself to perfection; to follow the curve of the sentence wherever it might lead, into deserts, under drifts of sand, regardless of lures, of seduction; to be poor always and unkempt; to be ridiculous in Piccadilly. (Virginia Woolf)

15 comments:

A thinker said...

It sounds like you are happy, Jenn...I'm glad.

jackie said...

Jenn, how nice to be feeling like your 'bounty' is bontiful - you'll have much to give thanks for Thanksgiving Day. Cool.

jackie said...

oops - bountiful - where the hell is spellcheck on this thing???

Anonymous said...

This was so beautiful you made me cry. You captured the moment so perfectly.

Jenn said...

A thinker: Thanks. I am.

Jackie: Juliet, my dear. I always crib from Billy.

Nessa: It did? Bless you, my child. How come I appear as Jennifer on your blog? Ick!

part-time buddha said...

How do you manage to capture both the surreality of a moment and its accompanying ultra-reality? What skill.

"Maybe I would be more coherent if I had daffodils." This is awesome. And it reminds me of one of my favo(u)rite Counting Crows lyrics:

"If you wrap yourself in daffodils
I'll wrap myself in pain.
And if you're the queen of California,
I am the king of the rain."

Lovely post, Jenn.

Jenn said...

You inspired this post, Bo.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Dandelion said...

I read this and pictured myself walking along the street in front of the courthouse. All the lights there! This is lovely Jenns. I love the way you love Christmas!

Anonymous said...

I was wondering if you had become all formalized or something; D

I'll be back over there some time today.

Jenn said...

Praby, to which courthouse do you refer? Were you thinking of Dataran Merdeka or some funky Colognic courthouse? :)

Nessa: I dunno what happenedlar...suddenly I looked and was Jennifer. It came as a shock. You know these things...

part-time buddha said...

I'm happy to have inspired something. Though I'm a little more familair with inspiring people to quote lines from Forrest Gump.

Anonymous said...

one of the best posts i've read in a very long time.
it was like a tiny, beautiful, mood elevator pill!

inside your head seems like a really nice place...:)

Jenn said...

Bo, come now, I will not have that. Self deprecating is all very well, when you have something to deprecate, but not from someone as talented as you, OK?

Pink: Hey there! Long time...thanks. Not many people would agree with you about the inside of my head, but sometimes, just sometimes, I fall upside and things spill out...

QuillDancer said...

Jenn, I am sorry I have been absent of late. I am a bit distracted these days. I love this post and the joy that pours from it.

The other night I stepped out side to toss the garbage and the setting sun was huge, yellow, rimmed in read, and casting gold. It was spell binding -- and nobody else stopped to stare. How can that be?

Jenn said...

Quilly: I am so glad you're back. I have missed you!