“I went broke believing/That the simple should be hard.” ~ Matt Nathanson, “All We Are”

Fenêtre Ouverte Sur la Seine, Pierre Bonnard (1912)

“And in the end the words won’t matter
‘Cause in the end nothing stays the same
And in the end dreams just scatter and fall like rain” ~ From “All We Are,” by Matt Nathanson

"Table Set in a Garden," by Pierre Bonnard

Last night I had one of those dreams that seems to go on forever, with changes of scenes, players. I remember that I was in a gourmet wine shop with Anthony Hopkins. There were different selections of cheeses, breads, wines. I was sitting at a table with Hopkins, a couple of characters out of a British mystery novel, some woman who I knew distantly. I had stopped in for a cup of tea because my tea was cold.

Then we were all packed into someone’s Jaguar (not an easy feat) so that we could visit the boarding school of one of the British mystery characters, but it was chained shut. Then Anthony Hopkins became agitated and hit the back end of a parked car. I offered him bread to eat so that there would be less alcohol in his body. Always thinking, I am.

Then, there was this man who owned a vineyard but was also part of a boy band. Don’t ask me who as I don’t listen to boy bands. I thought that it was quite a contradiction. Turns out, though, he was very intelligent and debonair, not a teeny bopper. We were eating chocolate, and he was telling Hopkins, who was now Dr. Mallard (David McCullum) of NCIS, that he would create a label just for him. Someone mentioned Kim Kardashian, and I said that I didn’t like her, which seemed to offend the vintner at first, and then he laughed and said that she was a big fake and that I was the first person he had met who had the guts to say so.

I don’t remember more, but the cheeses were delicious, as was the wine. The thing I remember most about myself in this dream was that I wasn’t myself. I was a different woman, but I don’t know who. Very strange.

“The artist who paints the emotions creates an enclosed world . . . the picture . . . which, like a book, has the same interest no matter where it happens to be. Such an artist, we may imagine, spends a great deal of time doing nothing but looking, both around him and inside him.” ~ Pierre Bonnard

"La Fenêtre," by Pierre Bonnard (1925)

 I do remember just a short blip from another dream: I was walking across the parking lot of a local shopping center, and I was thinking to myself that it would be nice to work in one of the bank’s drive-through booths (all of which were torn down years ago) after hours, just get locked in with the computer and do nothing but write, but then I thought that since it was a bank, they probably wouldn’t let me in after closing. All of this passed through my mind in just a second as I was avoiding a rain-splashed hole in the parking lot pavement.

Then in another dream, I was back at the real estate company, and my old office was very crowded as the owner had moved six people into a two-person space. I remember being quite upset because the filing system that I had created while I was there was in disarray. And then I found stacks of phone messages tied up in bundles. I thought that it was strange that the owner was reviewing all of the phone calls that came into the office.

I always dream about the real estate office where I was marketing director when I am feeling particularly stressed. It’s my grown-up version of an algebra exam dream. Oddly enough, I wasn’t stressed when I fell asleep, so I’m not sure why this scenario popped into my head.

Other than my very strange dreams, not a lot to write about today. It’s beautiful outside—sunshine and temperatures in the 50s. I think that our bout with snow and ice is finally over.

“What I am after is the first impression—I want to show all one sees on first entering the room—what my eye takes in at first glance.” ~ Pierre Bonnard

La Fenêtre Ouverte, by Pierre Bonnard (1921)

Corey managed to put aside a small bit of money so that we could go to the movies last night. Avatar. Wonderful movie. I wasn’t interested in seeing it until Brett saw it with his friends and told me that it was a great movie. Since we have the same tastes in movies, I thought that it might be worth a try. Corey wasn’t sure about it, but he knew that I wanted to see it. So much better than the last movie Corey and I saw.

As much as I dislike megalomaniac James Cameron, I have to admit that he knows how to do a big movie. The storyline was moving, and the picture itself was breathtaking. The only drawback was that the movie was in 3D, which meant that I had to watch with those funky glasses on top of my glasses. Films in 3D get to me after a while, and my eyes begin to hurt. But it was worth it. We both really enjoyed the movie. I understand now what all of the hoopla is about.

The only problem is a slight residual headache from the 3D, of course, wouldn’t expect anything less with my stupid head.

My dreams about wine and cheese made me think of France, which made me think of French painters, hence, the images by Pierre Bonnard, a French post-impressionist painter known for his use of intense colors. Bonnard, who was a contemporary of Toulouse-Latrec and Henri Matisse, was intrigued with light and refracted sunlight. Bonnard did not paint from life; instead he painted from drawings or photographs. I chose his depictions of open windows, as well as the outdoor table with wine and cheese.

 The Internet is not cooperating today. Have no idea as to why, so I’ll stop for now. Maybe I’ll have more to write about tomorrow.

More later. Peace.

Music by Matt Nathanson, “All We Are,” another great song that I first heard on NCIS.


All We Are

I tasted, tasted love so sweet
And all of it was lost on me
Buttons sold like property
Sugar on my tongue

I kept falling over
I kept looking backward
I went broke believing
That the simple should be hard

All we are we are
All we are we are
And every day is a start of something beautiful

I wasted, wasted love for you
Traded out for something new
Well, it’s hard to change the way you lose
If you think you never won

‘Cause all we are we are
All we are we are
And every day is a start of something beautiful

And in the end the words won’t matter
‘Cause in the end nothing stays the same
And in the end dreams just scatter and fall like rain

‘Cause all we are we are
All we are we are
And every day is a start of something beautiful, something real

All we are we are
All we are we are
And every day is a start of something beautiful, beautiful