At the end of the day

When I shower in the dark of night, with just one small touch light on in the far corner of the bathroom, somehow – just somehow – life feels magical, and as though anything is possible…

Post-a-day 2018

Advertisements

Nature’s magic

Did you know that indigo powder is green?

I had always imagined that it would be, you know, blue-ish… like indigo, the color.

But then, here I have some indigo powder, and, sure enough, it is pale green, much like a mix of moss and grass.

And then, just as surely, of course, it dyed things blue-ish…, indigo.

Magic in nature, I suppose…

There isn’t much that occurs naturally as blue in nature, but I wonder how much more there might be that are just as deceiving as indigo… talk about not judging a book by its cover…

Post-a-day 2018

Nighttime Window

I open my window at night… late, late at night, when I am awakened to heat by the sounds of someone climbing the stairs to go to bed in the middle of the night, though I never know it at the time, and neither does the stair-climber.  My room is hot, too hot for comfort, especially in the middle of winter, even though it is Houston.  I crawl to the edge and climb out of my bed, down to my shoes, and stumble to the bathroom to relieve my suddenly compressed bladder.  When I return, the heat hits me like a physical wall of warm fabric floating just inside my doorway.  I stumble back to my bed, letting my shoes fall as I climb into it.  I sit for a moment, considering…  The lights are off, so it is all right.

I lean forward on my hands and knees, and I slide open the large window a few inches, before sitting back and relaxing, waiting for the cool air to stream firmly into my room.  I always consider going to sleep with the window left open.  I always close it after only a minute or few, so that I may go back to sleep, at ease.  I want the cooling air, but nothing else is welcome.  In Houston, many a thing might aim to make itself welcome through an open window at night.  And I really don’t want to wake to a rat diving between a stack of boxes.  I want to keep this room clean, please.  And so, I shut the window every time, even though I’m never quite cooled off enough for good rest.  Each night, I silently wish for a screen for the window, while disregarding the wish, because I wasn’t to see the world clearly through the window, whether closed or open, just free of screening… so it cannot be.

So, I open my window at night, out of practical reasons, but silently wish to experience the magic I feel is waiting just outside, waiting in that cool, crisp, winter wonder air.

Post-a-day 2017

Magical life

I live a magical life, and I am grateful for it.  How is your life magical?  I have magic in mine every day.  It is only when I blind myself to the magic, that I begin to struggle in life.  If I keep my eyes seeing, the magic is, well, magical, and life is beautiful beyond compare (not that we really want to be doing comparisons in life, anyway, but still…).  So, let’s bring on the magic in each of our lives, and help the world to be even spectacularly beautiful.

Post-a-day 2017

Boys’ Choirs

This afternoon, as part of an Oktoberfest celebration, my mom and I listened to and watched the Houston Saengerbund.  They are an organization all about promoting German language singing and culture, and they seem quite kind and fun as a whole.  However, hearing their name instantly called to mind the name of Wiener Sängerknaben, which is the German name for the Vienna Boys’ Choir.

One of my brothers was in a boys’ choir when I was little.  I remember going to their performances and concerts.  I loved it.  The music was always absolutely beautiful.  I suppose it was one of the many reasons I have always looked up to him, thought him awesome.  I think it was because of this that I was perhaps a bit more aware of boys’ choirs than the average kid.  I grew up knowing about the Vienna Boys’ Choir, and dreaming of how amazing they must be.  They were seen almost as gods, when compared to my brother’s boys’ choir, but how could I even imagine such a thing, when, to me, this boys’ choir, the one with my brother, was already singing music of the gods?  I  imagined the Vienna Boys’ Choir as perfection, and left it at that.

I never even considered hearing them perform.  It was that far out of the realm of possibility.

But, of course, since my life is so dearly blessed, this unacknowledged dream was fulfilled.  While I was living in Vienna, my mom and I went together to hear them sing.  It was the only time I have paid to attend Mass.  

When we did some research about it, it seemed all too easy.  I could hardly believe that we merely had to buy incredibly affordable tickets to attend Mass at the Wiener Hofburgkapelle (Wowzer, that place is gorgeous, by the way!) in order to hear the boys sing.  But we did it, and it was absolutely amazing.  I think I could’ve cried during the Mass at almost any given moment, and I might have actually cried when the boys came down in front to sing a couple other songs after the Mass.  I don’t actually remember.  That wasn’t exactly my focus at the time. 

There’s no way to describe the experience appropriately, so I won’t bother.  It was a dream that I had hardly even dreamed, and it was being fulfilled.  Perhaps you know what that’s like.  It was magic being real in two ways: First, in their music, and second, in my being there to hear it firsthand.  It was perfection (in the cold, since it was the middle of winter).

Post-a-day 2017

Magic in our pockets

Tonight, I have dance class (at long last).  But that is not exactly the point… merely a piece of the mix.  I am on my way to dance class now, writing this, as I listen to the lady’s voice coming through the hidden speakers on the train, announcing clearly, “Please off your seat to those who may need it,” at which I inwardly chuckle/cringe each time.

Before I left home for class, however, I was baking cake cookies, while watching a film.  The film was “Kate & Leopold”, and it was showing on a laptop near me at my convenience.  It was well past time to leave, but the film was not quite finished.  However, I had finally finished my cake cookies, and so had no real excuse to delay my departure – the film could pause and wait just as easily as it could continue playing… Perhaps even more easily, as it required no power source from my apartment to do that.  Though, that is not the point here.

So, I paused the movie, once I saw that it had a good ten minutes remaining in it, and it therefore would not finish in the time it took me to go to the bathroom and put on my socks.  Now, I know how the movie ends.  That, too, is not the point.  The point, my dear readers is this: I didn’t have to stop watching the film, despite my then immediate departure.

How crazy a world is this one in which we now live, where I don’t have to stop watching the film that is at home, when I leave my home?

I could have easily pulled up Netflix on my phone, just as easily as I checked the time when I was slumbering down the stairs outside – which was, indeed, how Inhad even had the idea – , and immediately resumed the film where I had paused it.  Just by opening the website (or app if I’d bothered to download it), I could have simply clicked the play button and continued my film as I was heading to the train station.

It seems so simple and normal and standard, because people do this all the time.  I see people watching TV shows and movies almost every time I am on the train.  And yet, having experienced this particular situation tonight, I suddenly see how bizarre and futuristic a concept this is.  A movie can travel with me in my pocket, even if ten seconds ago, it was on a huge TV screen or a computer or wherever.  It’s like shapeshifting or magic, and we’re all carrying it around with us, as though it’s a cup of coffee or a slice of bread.  Or an apple.  Literally, I guess.  (Though I’d definitely intended that one to be a reference to its connection with the magic of physics.)
Post-a-day 2017