Day 54

Written 12 May, 2020

 

Sophie’s drawing of her nightmare; this jetty and river are like a view of mine from the eye of a passing bird, or a floating spirit.

 

No new cases in NSW. In Brazil, 10, 600  deaths and when it was reported to the President, he said, “So what?” And he’s a leader.

 

We have no hot water. I test the gas to see if the bottle’s empty, and the gas leaps on, and I switch it off a second later. I should’ve tested it for longer. GG spends the morning checking the electrics of the hot water machine, which we bought 10 years ago and still celebrate for before it arrived, the bendiest one, me, had to creep under the house to with a candle to persuade a reluctant pilot flame to light, always, it seemed, in the dead of night,though that can’t have been true. I must’ve lit it sometimes in daylight.

 

Only two hours later, do we realise that the hot water system is fine, it was only an empty gas bottle.  I cry at the precariousness of things and fall asleep on the sofa.

 

I walk along the track in the opposite direction to usual, and stop to chat to A,8 houses away, the only grand house here. We talk for an hour about our bay. We’re both in love with it. I run home in the dusk to fry fish (we didn’t catch it), make a garden salad and steam rice. It’s so much easier, now we don’t have to live off the land. Four fish in 6 weeks, and one of them poisonous. And the seedlings still babies, refusing to grow up.

 

Meanwhile, the video uploads…slowly….slowly. After 26 hours, it’s 46%.

 

 

3 Responses to Day 54

  1. I had another strange dream last night, I shouldn’t be surprised, but they’ve been coming to me less and less since isolation began, I postulate the sea breeze and laziness of Lennox Head has had something to do with their absence.

    Last night I dreamt an awful dream about J, my triplet brother who is stranded in New York City. The dream was nothing outrageously absurd, but, seeing his ghost at a dark quarry with my Mum and my other triplet brother, C, was enough to wake me this morning with a kind of cold horror. After hearing of J’s sudden passing, Mum, C and I were summoned to an old doc in the middle of the night – the architecture of my dreams have always been so vivid – we arrived, pitch black, still silence. As we walked closer and closer through the darkness to the jetty we could hear the sound of teenage boys whooping and leaping into the moonlit black water. A strange place for the ghost of J to summon us to, but hey, it’s a dream so we didn’t ask questions.

    These teenage boys were half-human half-spirit, their purpose was to connect the living with the dead. The boys told us that J had contacted them, asking if C, Mum and I would meet him in the dark water to say our final goodbyes. The dream then unfolded into a kind of orchestrated choreography, a ritual perhaps that these teenage boys had developed for grieving families.

    J’s ghost apparated and he instructed us to meet him in the water. He told us to leap from the concrete slabs beneath our feet into the ice cold water below, and, despite all our instincts, not to swim to the surface, for he would meet us down there and push our freezing cold bodies back up. He told us to trust him, that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to us. I remember not jumping, hesitating, afraid of the height, afraid of the cold below, the sight of J’s ghost, and the looming reality that once I jump in, J will disappear forever. But I jumped anyway, something that I had to do, something that J wanted, and suddenly I was consumed by the cold; I didn’t struggle or swim to the surface like J instructed, I just slowly let myself sink -sink forever it felt – until eventually, a glowing golden pair of hands caught the weight of my body, and J’s warm touch pushed me back up. My head broke the surface and I saw the silhouettes of C and Mum too, gasping for air, crying, wailing, J now no where to be seen.

    I should mention, that despite this terrible dream, I had a very delightful chat to J and E (his wife) over the weekend. I can report that they’re both in high spirits, keeping themselves busy by baking delicious things, reading plays and other things that young and in love actors do – and J, of course, everyday at 11am reading a chapter of Harry Potter on his instagram live: https://www.instagram.com/joshbromfielddavis/?hl=en

  2. Sophie, I was mesmerised and finally in tears with your nightmare. It seemed so familiar- not sure why. The dark water, the request from the dying, the golden hands, and J not being there on the jetty at the end. I’m so glad J and his wife are fine, but worry about you. Did you draw this dream?

  3. Hi Sue, I haven’t drawn that particular dream, however, I want to share this with you – the jetty and river you have been describing in your blog posts and videos have really stuck in my mind’s eye, and worked its way into my dream last night AND my major work script!

    I drew a little picture last week (which I’m sending to you in an email) because I like to draw what I write as a way to really try and materialise the world. It’s just a concept drawing, but I thought you might be interested – are you able to post it in your comment as I am unable to?  

Leave a reply