Lately, my first moment of consciousness each morning is completely lucid. Within seconds I might fall away again but for a brief moment my lungs are blown full and my sleepy heart spurred to a donkey-canter, apparently for me to to fully apprehend the fact of my morning aloneness.
That's a bit of an inverted telling, but whatever.
Here are a few of the various things that over the years 1 I've imagined included in my presumable, eventual house:
+ Proximity to the ocean 2
+ If but one canopic jar, preferably lungs (baboon) or falcon (lower intestines)
+ A back yard, shaded by large trees and further defined by clusters of sheltering foliage with large-petaled flowers, small flowering and fruit trees, and maybe a hedge or two; with the result of its calling up our world and history by having many discrete, visitable locales from which to summon loved ones for the acting out of verbs probably beginning with "c"
+ One large ground-level room for skateboarding, floored completely with ramps and bowls and opening to a backyard half-pipe
+ A small stage on one edge of the back yard 3
+ Canopic bed 4
+ Extra bicycles
+ Extra clothes
+ Extra beds
+ A motorcycle
+ A public address system with effects, and a central music library
+ A room filled about 6' deep with pillows 5
+ An art room with racks for piling high pottery
+ An accessible roof
Notes
1. beginning ~1981
2. with at least 5 instances of ridable waves per year
3. on the far edge of the elementary school playground at ISK there used to be a wooden stage comprised of platforms of various heights. It was called "the platforms." "Platforms" seemed the kind of thing I'd encounter in places throughout my life, but this hasn't been the case. There were also treehouses in that playground
4. canopy bed + vague associations of sleep/death, animalism/sex, and dreams/afterlife
5. this comes from the dreams I have of such rooms; depending on the size of the rooms, I can sometimes fly in them
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