Today I am robed in red. One of my scientifically minded colleagues was visibly perplexed this morning. I asked if he was ok. He said he was not and gathered himself to explain. Apparently earlier in the week I was wearing blue and my eyes were bright blue, then another day green and my eyes were slate (blue-grey), when I had long golden earrings on my eyes were dark blue with flecks of gold, today in red my eyes are green. He was bewildered that my eyes are so changeable. I had no idea anyone paid such specific attention to my clothing or eye colour! I was astounded that this caused such a reaction; he was visibly agitated and almost anxious. He admitted it was likely that his left hemisphere analytic leanings could not make sense of it which is why it bothered him so. Of course I know, as many of you will too, that most of us have a dominant eye colour but also flecks of other colours that are picked up in different lighting conditions, clothing colour and the weather of the day; although of course I told him it was my Faery blood which confused and flustered the poor man even more *wink*.
From 1pm till 3am, with a two hour dinner break, I danced. The finest dancers from around the country and some drawn from overseas raised glasses to toast and danced. At 3am exhausted I hung up my golden heels and fell into delicious slumber. Today I ache from head to toe, body gloriously aware of yesterday’s play, feet especially sore (8cm heels all day) and stomach from long laughter. Satiated, a long bath and a good book make up the shape of what is left of today…
Perplexed by verdant blessing as I pass through the night filled with thoughts of spring in the wrong season. Low hung moon, huge bronzed slither all wrong in the sky where mountains should be, in the West where setting sun did pass, too early, I doubt reality. Window to obscure thoughts, I find my mind opens to the unseen and ears suddenly hear the determined whisper of the Fae, tonight? Tonight shall we play? Why not when my verdant thoughts of night and spring are all introverted and upturned.
“I believe this. When we meet those we fall in love with, there is an aspect of our spirit that is historian, a bit of a pedant who reminisces or remembers a meeting when the other has passed by innocently…but all parts of the body must be ready for the other, all atoms must jump in one direction for desire to occur.”
– Michael Ondaatje, ‘The English Patient’.
I bathed in moonlight and scented myself in the night. I dressed ritually, as if for a wedding or some other rite of passage. Finally, soothed, prepared, cloaked to absorb some of my unseemly iridescence, I enter the scene. I know this is the right place and moment. My glance takes in the room mentally checking my celestial clock… right on time. I see him glance up and smell the air. I pass through the room lyrically dancing between the press of swaying intoxicated bodies, smiling knowingly and with warning at the men attempting to intercept my path. They fall away hearts pounding as they watch me move beyond them. You feel my approach turning as I confidently pause. We have not yet entered each others proximity but you know. Your hazel yellow eyes widen and your cloak deepens as you extend a hand. I meet your gaze with my impossible blue eyes as I take your hand I let my cloak fall before you. Lifetimes of faces dance between us as you devilishly smile. Yes you remember me; I have found you once again. My hair still echoes my movement, such little real time has passed. Laughing deeply you take in my smile and offer me a drink. More devil than human you hope to diminish my angelic charm. We have danced this night a thousand times, a thousand different ways, perhaps tonight we might get it right? With a gleam in my eye I reply, “I’ll have an Angel’s Delight.”