2002-05-25
"do you like what you seeee..." -Kylie
Well as sure as hell do tonight, because I have had many cocktails, and have spent the night drinking and disco dancing with many gay men.
and Christ, it was fantastic.
Miss Emma makes a mean kiwi cocktail, mean and rather strong I have now realised after pausing for several minutes to grasp the word kiwi.
I have rather disheveled pin curls and gold ink all over my hands from writing "You shine like Diamonds" across Em's bust.... and am wearing a tu tu.. it's not like it sounds, it's more a black satin skirt with loads of tulle under it... and note it's too late in the season for tube tops, *shivering*
I got to thinking tonight, that it's okay that this is the sum of my parts.. and I think that Lucas is totally on the money with his relationship theory (one of just many). See Mister Lucas has this theory that when you break up with someone that you are unatractive for like 2-3 months and after that you are really fucking attractive to EVERYONE... yep... and it's working for me... real good.
and I also got to thinking about what people are given, the little talents are quirks they are born with, more like little gifts of goodness that they are compelled to share with the world, because whats a gift if you don't share, by having it you sign some form of genetic contract to share this with all who cross your path..
I've always wanted to be able to sing really well, to be able to make beautiful sounds to make someone feel something, to paint something that stops a heart just for a second, to dance a dance that moves a person to create....
but it's not within me. But this is. this writing is what I have, it's what I have been given... I am going to write, because if I don't my contract will have been broken.
henceforth I write
Everyone has that special person in their family who is just a little bit different, who creates something a little bit beautiful just by walking into a room.
I have an Uncle named Andy. After every family dinner in my grandparents dark sitting room he would cross the room to the piano.
Slowly opening the lid and lightly stroking the keys, humming odd little tunes just above a whisper. We could hear his little mumbles in between the clinking of classes and during lulls in conversation.
Soon he began playing, usually old show tunes, nodding his head frantically and closing his eyes. After a time all the children would come to his side, and sit at his feet, listening intently to his playing. We would scream out requests garbled by the remains of dinner in our mouths. Andy would always play each request, noting them in his head and dillegently playing them to the last note.
The youngest child would sit at his side on the stool, getting the best view of his rapidly moving hands. The kids would drift off into other rooms whilst Andy played on, the youngest by this stage asleep in his lap.
Cofee and Desert were brought out and Andy had moved onto famous concertos completly oblivous to the family.
Eventually nightime came and roused Andy to join the rest of the family, to share kisses and watch the children being hurridly bundled into cars to meet bathtime.
The house has changed and the piano lies dormant until Uncle Andy returns once more... see now the kids are older and a little bit wiser by as soon as he plays they are silent. Just like before.
.