This is the home of Sleeping in the Meadows.

"Surreal and poetic reflections on life and imagination... told in 3rd person through the dreams and adventures of two beings, Sa and Atee." 

Sunday, August 3

Invisible Number (untitled #1)

Atee went to the temple. This is where she prayed for clarity and guidance.

She looked for a pleasant spot to kneel.

Atee was affected by everything she saw. And in the temple, she felt whole. No matter what mistakes she had made or regrets she had, all was forgiven. Here, she was renewed.

And so, Atee made a mobile temple. She carried it with her everywhere she went. It brought her peace.

She was renewed every moment. A rejuvenation with every breath. Broken with the past and future. Atee was floating and without time, a happening to her surroundings.

Atee was an experience to her environments and her environment to itself. A game of everything believing itself to be unaffected. But Atee was a mirage, a feeling, a memory and desire to the world around her. SHe was like the rain cloud that came and went, that could wet the dry ground, shower the rolling, waving ocean and flood the mucky valleys.

Atee was an unseen spectre. She faded in and out of reality based on whose attention noticed her. She was a constellation of profundities and trivialities. She was enormously radiant and burning with appeal yet also, dimly irreducible and undefined.

Atee was a shadow and a white canvas. She was a foggy mirror, a crushed sandcastle, a melted snowman, a cloudless sky. Atee was in some cases here and in some cases not.

Her memory reached out and touched you. At times, she was  manifested you from a past life.

She was alone even while together and fulfilled even while wanting. Atee was, at times, with the sun during the evening.

She was out of place and unaligned. Like a lost diary, she was personal yet unrelated.

Unrelated like ink on a chalkboard. Like a book left in the rain. THe words are still there, the message is still the same.

To some, Atee seemed like a book left in the rain.

Atee was like a bird that learned to swim underwater. Feathers and all.

Atee would read after extinguishing her candle. She would unread before waking up. Atee channelled her future lives to speak to her. She listened without hearing and responded with thinking.

Atee wrapped herself in a newspaper colored blanket and fell asleep beneath the stars with Sa. She painted the grass and trees with new colors. She dyed the lakes and rivers. She lived her creativity out loud.

There was once a time when Sa and Atee were awoken. Neither of them could identify why.

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