The end of a really crap day of miscommunication, dark realizations, and a long journey to the doctor and back found me leaning against a smooth concrete wall at Trinity and Sutter Street, downtown San Francisco, after dark. I smoked a cigarette and let the tears come.
When I was calm and had finally found a napkin to blow my nose with, I put my iPod on and listened to opera while I walked the long blocks across town to my apartment. I stopped at El Castillito, had a quesedilla with chips and a carrot juice for dinner, and watched the warm day’s twilight fade into night through theplate glass window. Arriving home I felt better. Walking always helps to ease my mind. I felt calm and clear.
Instead of working, I have so much to do right now, I decided to take care of myself. I drew a hot bath, burned an unscented white candle, and just soaked. I shaved as carefully as possible. I even moisturized my feet, hands and face. Then I lay on my stomach, in my jammies and read until about 3 am. When I realized I was falling asleep, I stood up and stretched, taking a deep breath of the warm San Francisco night air. It smells of spring at night, when it’s this balmy, and I laughed out loud because I felt so good. I had a drink of water, put my book away, and jumped into the cool, crisp sheets, and fell into a deep, restful sleep.
This morning I awoke to a curious sound. Sort of like a shrill and resonant Wwabbah Whrrubbah. Something like that.
I sat up when I heard it the second time, and looked around the room. I dream most vividly in the mornings, so I was entirely ready for it to turn out to be an artifact of my imagination, but then I heard it again. It sounded like maybe there was a turkey in the kitchen. Somehow sensing that it was impossible for there to be a turkey in the kitchen, I got up to investigate anyway.
Completely nude I walked into the kitchen and scratched my head. There was, as I suspected, no turkey in there. I looked out the window at the warm sunny day and noticed the buddhist in his cranberry and mustard colored robes smiling at me from his window across the courtyard. I smiled back and raised my hand to wave when I remembered that I was nude. I quickly walked out of the kitchen and down the hall toward my studio.
When I opened the door I inadvertently interrupted two pigeons mid love-making. They were certainly more unhappy about my arrival than even I was, because I burst out laughing and the birds parted reluctantly, flapping their wings like crazy, and perching on top of my Genelec monitors.
“What are you two doing in here?” I asked kindly.
The birds just looked at me.
“Well” I said with a smile. “At least someone’s getting some in this house.”
And with that I took up my broom and shooed them right out the window from whence they came. I put the screens in place, and then got dressed and returned to the studio to survey the damage. As I suspected, the birds had released their bowels on my slip mats, and then walked around in it, spreading the love around all over the DJ mixer, and various other devices. It didn’t take long to clean up, and I laughed while I did it. The idea of my studio and DJ console turning out to be a love den for a surly pair of rats with wings is, in a way, some form of compliment.
I spent rest of the day today out in the sun with my dear friend Rachel. We had a lovely walk through Hayes Valley talking about her recent health issues, and my doctor’s appointment yesterday, and the things I have been coming to see clearly recently.
There’s really nothing like a candle light bath to your head is there? Nothing like good friends who know you and tell you everything. Nothing like trust. Nothing like love.
I am transformed by mating pigeons, and sunlight.
