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Especially in lots of little separate bits.... Lighting up pretty stuff and stuff I'm proud of.... My mom got all the old Santa Monica candles out of wherever they were and I've been stealthily importing them into my room. There's the jewel-toned millefiori, that lights up like a stained-glass window, and a peach-colored pyramid that had a quartz and an amethyst in it when you melted it down far enough, and all the little set of hexagonal frosted pastel glass holders that look so sweet.... And the hammered-looking pair of glass holders that look like they belong in some kind of classy restaurant where you're not supposed to play with the fire.... And the new green spheres I got for Christmas. And a bunch of random pillars--- white, red, purple.... Fire is good.
And my pathetic hoard look so much better in firelight. So much more authentic. I actually put it all in one place, just to observe it, but I liked it so much I left it there. A handful of amethyst, quartz, citrine, a couple green things, an amethyst point, a rhombus of some kind, the dragon ring Raphy gave me, and a golden, preColumbian-looking jaguar pin. I leave my opals in the treasure chest.... The garnets and the ambers are spread symmetrically behind the carnival-glass bowl I put it all in, and the two tall metal vases Gail gave me behind those, with the butterfly holder between them, holding the millefiori. And my mud dragon-head and some interesting bones and my found knife and my old Ailurian sceptre, also symmetrical. I'm a sucker for symmetry.
The bed headboard (or is it sideboard?) is piled with candles, and it's almost like a light is on when they're all lit. The show Nia's Christmas drawing, Daddy's picture and carvings, and all my favorite books. Lots of those. Lots. And lots. My desk has the newly excavated silver goblets I used at Madrigal dinner, one filled with the shells from Waldorf Halloween that used to be in the bowl on the hexagon, the other with all the flowers I've ever received (3). The room is so much more mine when lit by candles. As is the hoard. Do tigers hoard? No. I'll have to paint the dragon I made in David's ceramics class with the wonderful metallic "paint" I've been systematically pilfering from Mama's 2ftX2ft nail polish box (it's overflowing with those little bottles).
You know what? He's a pyro too. They both are. The first and the second. The first not as much. He talked to me a little during the 15min passing period between exams today. I hardly ever see him, but tis still the same. It's not any different with the second, either; just more painful and envious. He's still my best friend at that school. I already loved to be around him anyway. We spent from the end of choral placement afterschool(around 2:30) til 4:00 in a practice room just going on and on about whatever came to mind: best places in the Pathetique, theory of natural selection, what we want to do when we grow up, why specialization is so terrible (we want to do lots of things, and many in common), where he takes his flying lessons, why lying to authority is ok if one is innocent and wishes others to be seen so (the asst. Principal came in when she was on his lap and asked if we were being supervised because the practice rooms are sposed to be locked after hours, and the head of the music department came by and basically toldhim off cause they were still working in the Alessandro), many things..... Quantum theory and how it's so cool, space flight and why they stopped and how he's going to do it himself without govt help, programming, socialism, current events.... She says she feels stupid, but I don't know why. She can offer opinions just as well as I; it's he who knows about whatever we talk about, usually.... V-7 inversions I can cope with, and anything to do with English (we often debate points of grammar, and I always win), and most ancient history, but he's got the math and the science and the technological advancements and the wars. With L it was mostly philosophical if he deigned to converse. Which was good, too. I can bluff my way through a treatise on existentialism, and I have my own philosophy that tens to make sense to whoever hears it (except bleeding-heart liberals), and we usually got off pretty well if I could keep my tongue untied (unlikely). He just had (has) a different effect on me. I cease functioning effectively. All I want to do is have his attention, for no reason, and be appreciated. With B I have a reason, and I don't have to work so hard to think, and I can perceive somewhat objectively without having to worry about putting him off and losing the conversation. I guess it's a matter of having a lot of fond acquaintances, or a few good friends. He has to pay attention to everybody. But that's not really it, either. B is everybody's friend, even if he doesn't know most of the people he helps. If a teacher, or anybody speaks a sentence, and the sentence is "Somebody go do this," his name is Somebody. He fetches and carries, opens doors (I won't go while he's holding it, OR accept his help getting gup, but he keeps trying), lends his jacket, helps with school/homework... it's quite discouraging to see how much of a jerk I am in comparison. But he doesn't hesitate to say what he thinks, either, if he says anything. He's not a go-with-the-flow person, especially if the flow is stupid. He does his own thing (in a practice room, most of the time), and only if it coincides with his goals does he follow teachers' orders, though that's pretty often. He's a lot like me. Funny. A fire person. His colors (I swear I see his flag in my head) are deep blue, cream, and fiery orange. Even he acknowledges it; he wears either blue or bright orange, and his skin is close enough to milk so as to make no nevermind... And obviously, his head looks like it's burning merrily when we eat lunch outside in the sun.
He's also not fond of most baroque (hates Haydn), more of a Romantic period enthusiast like me, though some classical is ok. It's uncanny how many things we agree on. The drama/emotion that I espouse in my music, he also prefers. Passion is the preferred expression; it ought to SAY something, and not just be pretty or admirably agile. Fiery, I suppose. Odd how one titles a journal entry and keeps coming back to it....
Someday, he will adore her to the point he can no longer stand it, and probably propose. It she hurts him, I'll kill her, no matter how few friends I have and that she's one.
And my pathetic hoard look so much better in firelight. So much more authentic. I actually put it all in one place, just to observe it, but I liked it so much I left it there. A handful of amethyst, quartz, citrine, a couple green things, an amethyst point, a rhombus of some kind, the dragon ring Raphy gave me, and a golden, preColumbian-looking jaguar pin. I leave my opals in the treasure chest.... The garnets and the ambers are spread symmetrically behind the carnival-glass bowl I put it all in, and the two tall metal vases Gail gave me behind those, with the butterfly holder between them, holding the millefiori. And my mud dragon-head and some interesting bones and my found knife and my old Ailurian sceptre, also symmetrical. I'm a sucker for symmetry.
The bed headboard (or is it sideboard?) is piled with candles, and it's almost like a light is on when they're all lit. The show Nia's Christmas drawing, Daddy's picture and carvings, and all my favorite books. Lots of those. Lots. And lots. My desk has the newly excavated silver goblets I used at Madrigal dinner, one filled with the shells from Waldorf Halloween that used to be in the bowl on the hexagon, the other with all the flowers I've ever received (3). The room is so much more mine when lit by candles. As is the hoard. Do tigers hoard? No. I'll have to paint the dragon I made in David's ceramics class with the wonderful metallic "paint" I've been systematically pilfering from Mama's 2ftX2ft nail polish box (it's overflowing with those little bottles).
You know what? He's a pyro too. They both are. The first and the second. The first not as much. He talked to me a little during the 15min passing period between exams today. I hardly ever see him, but tis still the same. It's not any different with the second, either; just more painful and envious. He's still my best friend at that school. I already loved to be around him anyway. We spent from the end of choral placement afterschool(around 2:30) til 4:00 in a practice room just going on and on about whatever came to mind: best places in the Pathetique, theory of natural selection, what we want to do when we grow up, why specialization is so terrible (we want to do lots of things, and many in common), where he takes his flying lessons, why lying to authority is ok if one is innocent and wishes others to be seen so (the asst. Principal came in when she was on his lap and asked if we were being supervised because the practice rooms are sposed to be locked after hours, and the head of the music department came by and basically toldhim off cause they were still working in the Alessandro), many things..... Quantum theory and how it's so cool, space flight and why they stopped and how he's going to do it himself without govt help, programming, socialism, current events.... She says she feels stupid, but I don't know why. She can offer opinions just as well as I; it's he who knows about whatever we talk about, usually.... V-7 inversions I can cope with, and anything to do with English (we often debate points of grammar, and I always win), and most ancient history, but he's got the math and the science and the technological advancements and the wars. With L it was mostly philosophical if he deigned to converse. Which was good, too. I can bluff my way through a treatise on existentialism, and I have my own philosophy that tens to make sense to whoever hears it (except bleeding-heart liberals), and we usually got off pretty well if I could keep my tongue untied (unlikely). He just had (has) a different effect on me. I cease functioning effectively. All I want to do is have his attention, for no reason, and be appreciated. With B I have a reason, and I don't have to work so hard to think, and I can perceive somewhat objectively without having to worry about putting him off and losing the conversation. I guess it's a matter of having a lot of fond acquaintances, or a few good friends. He has to pay attention to everybody. But that's not really it, either. B is everybody's friend, even if he doesn't know most of the people he helps. If a teacher, or anybody speaks a sentence, and the sentence is "Somebody go do this," his name is Somebody. He fetches and carries, opens doors (I won't go while he's holding it, OR accept his help getting gup, but he keeps trying), lends his jacket, helps with school/homework... it's quite discouraging to see how much of a jerk I am in comparison. But he doesn't hesitate to say what he thinks, either, if he says anything. He's not a go-with-the-flow person, especially if the flow is stupid. He does his own thing (in a practice room, most of the time), and only if it coincides with his goals does he follow teachers' orders, though that's pretty often. He's a lot like me. Funny. A fire person. His colors (I swear I see his flag in my head) are deep blue, cream, and fiery orange. Even he acknowledges it; he wears either blue or bright orange, and his skin is close enough to milk so as to make no nevermind... And obviously, his head looks like it's burning merrily when we eat lunch outside in the sun.
He's also not fond of most baroque (hates Haydn), more of a Romantic period enthusiast like me, though some classical is ok. It's uncanny how many things we agree on. The drama/emotion that I espouse in my music, he also prefers. Passion is the preferred expression; it ought to SAY something, and not just be pretty or admirably agile. Fiery, I suppose. Odd how one titles a journal entry and keeps coming back to it....
Someday, he will adore her to the point he can no longer stand it, and probably propose. It she hurts him, I'll kill her, no matter how few friends I have and that she's one.