Dear Jimi...Turquoise

4/01 - Turquoise

Dear Jimi -

Was that really you in my dreams last night, or was that just a figment of my subconscious, toying with me? Whatever may be the case, it was a bizarre and incredible dream, full of physical, spiritual, and tactile feelings and color, and emotion, and nonsensical stuff. I remember that I was walking up a country road with my father. It was Bender’s Church Road where I grew up, and as I passed my friend Violet’s home, I peered into the front window (which never actually existed), and like an old Kodakrome negative, I saw her older sister Laura with her beautiful little son, Damon, rise from slumber and catch my eye and smile. They were cast in a strange orange light like an overexposed photograph, and I smiled and pointed them out to my dad, but my arms wouldn’t raise enough to wave to them; I could feel the pressure holding them down.

My father and I then ventured into my big, yellow country home that I grew up in, and there were a whole bunch of people there that I didn’t recognize, sitting in the living room watching television with my mom and Amber, my older sister.

Now, I don’t particularly remember the transition to the conference room on the second floor of my home, but I remember being conscience of the jeans I was wearing, and of a large portfolio of prints that I was carrying, and when I unzipped the portfolio, they were fantastic paintings of you, alive with color, just like your fiancee had painted...and then I felt your presence behind me. I turned and looked, and it was you. I reached out and touched your face, chiseled cheekbones and deep amber eyes, and you smiled shyly. I said, “Is it you?” I was conscious of you in my dream.

You laughed, and said something ...I wish that I could recall. I was amazed that you looked just as you did in photographs in 1969, but you were dressed much more casual. You were wearing a turquoise necklace that lay beautifully against your warm, dark skin resting over your collarbone, a button down black shirt, and a beautiful silver ring. You and I went through the portfolio of photographs, and I kept commenting on how much Jack reminded me of you.

There were other people that I didn’t recognize running around us busily preparing for something, but you and I had this ongoing, unconscious dialogue. The next thing that I recall, we were lying comfortably beneath soft yellow blankets on the floor of some dusky morning light-lit room that I didn’t recognize. There was a washer and dryer in the corner, and I just remember cuddling like children; I could smell your skin, and feel the warmth emanating from your body, and your long fingers held my hands. And then the door opened to the room, and my mother walked in to do some laundry and said, “Oh ...I’m sorry,” noticing that half of you was exposed from underneath the yellow blanket, and you had a bare bum.

I remember... that was the first that I had noticed that you were naked, too. But my mom continued to put a load of laundry into the washer, and slipped out and shut the door behind her. It didn’t phase us.

Next thing I knew you were talking on the phone in my parent’s kitchen, and you were wearing a hat, and speaking in a different language that I couldn’t interpret. Then you were gone, and I was driving through the Delaware Water Gap in Pennsylvania, where I happened upon the Shawnee Resort...I inadvertently decided to drive top speed through, directly into the Delaware River. So weird. I felt like I had no control over the Volkswagon Beetle that I was driving, and I was headed toward a crowd of people on the bank of the river, so I used my power, moving my arms in some strange manor, and I flew above the crowd, and above the river. All of the people below me in boats looked up in peaceful awe, and one woman said, “oh look, it’s one of those new flying bugs.” And I felt safe.

Thanks for visiting. Love, Ana

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