Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Lost & Found


I woke with my heart pounding as the panicky, almost terrified voice tried to stir me from my deep slumber. I spun on my hip, eyes thick with sleep as I sat up in bed with the thumping in my chest the only sound in the room. 5:07 AM the alarm clock showed me as it rested silently, still in its own state of slumber, hours from when it would be droning out its “Time to get your ass up woman” god awful buzzing. The husband still folded into the comforter….that he stole from me thank you very much, wrapped up tight, the steady sound of deep breathing combined with a slight nasal whistle assuring me that he was, like the alarm clock, still hours from being awake. With my body vibrating from the shock of being awoken, by the sound of someone yelling my name in an increasingly sharp and fearful sounding tone, I knew I was never going to be able to drift back to sleep. I silently slipped from the bed, the one I had just fallen into only four hours before and came here. My hands still shaky, my eyes still thick and chest still pulling as I try and catch my breath….my mind racing, who was calling me? Lost……

Never being a big sleeper I’ve learned to love the sound of a city coming to life. The way it seems almost as if a giant switch as been flipped that sets in motion a soundtrack and series of events that all build to the sun coming up. That little chunk of time when the air smells cold, damp, settled, almost heavy….the way it shifts and becomes lighter with each little sign; birds chattering, nocturnals settling in, the hum of delivery trucks hitting the highways. Each tiny thing bringing a warmth and richness to that cold, damp smelling air, the gentle early morning stirrings, the shades from black to gray to steely blue, the spinning of shower knobs, flipping of light switches, the apartments around mine one by one emitting signs of life that I can now see through the glow behind their once dark windows. This, this is my favorite time of day, this watching, smelling and listening as the world comes to life time. So hopeful, I always feel so grateful and hopeful here. Maybe it was me that was calling….me. Maybe I needed to feel this, see the world outside my tiny apartment go from black to blue, hear the birds calling to the sun, smell the air go from cold and heavy to fresh and vibrant. A new day. My hands no longer shaking, my eyes bright and clear, my heart still thumping away but now with hope and energy as this new day is still coming to life. Had to have been me, my inner alarm clock yelling my own name, shaking me from a foggy slumber to get up, see and feel this. Best fucking alarm clock, like ever. Found….

My rebellious nature, that I now know I got from my father, has seen fit to knock me off track more than once in my life. I have lost my way before, lost sight of the things that truly matter, lost friends and lovers, lost family and time…lost my drive and passion from time to time but as luck would have it, something always comes along, finds me, twists my little head on straight and acts as fingers against my back. Hoisting me right back on track where I will hobble for a bit but start chugging along once again, this time with yet another thing behind me….pushing me, making me feel stronger, holding me up when I feel like I might fall again. Lost is easier in a way, easier to get spun up in, fall back on, wallow in but found…well that takes some work and adjustments but it feels so much fucking better. Now before you all, (or should I say y’all seeing as I will be in Louisville….Louisville Kentucky, who would have thunk, tomorrow) go thinking I’m turning into a Jesus freak or granola munching, sunrise watching hippie, think again. I am writing this while downing much needed coffee, still in my jammies and smoking, hell my front door is still locked and I won’t be heading outside for another three hours. As for Jesus, well while I’m sure he is a nice fellow we have yet to meet. 

My found has always come to me in the form of things more textured or maybe tangible is a better word. Moments, voices, kisses, tastes, smells, long passion soaked evenings of light headed, laughter, teeth brushing against my flesh….the possibility of more. There are few things in my life that I can point to, that make many of those “found” moments possible than wine. I’m sitting here my coffee cup to my left and just beyond that is a wine glass, the one that I finally abandoned just a few hours ago, a tiny pool of golden hued, nutty and aromatic pleasure still there, my desire to consume it heaped on my hopeful heart as I write this. Last night being handed the remnants of a sample bottle of 2008 Chandon de Briailles Pernand-Vergelesses Ile des Vergelesses, a premier cru white Burgundy that is not only a tongue twister, twists some of my other bits too. A profoundly powerful bottle of Chardonnay that crosses that line for me, that line between mere beverage and heart stopping true love, the kind that makes my whole body shake, the kind the begs me to spend hours letting its almost vicious, oily body roll around in my warm mouth before releasing it and letting it trickle down my throat. The kind of wine that whispers to me even now from behind that coffee cup, “I’m still here, still waiting for you, still ready to splash around inside your mouth, cover your tongue….taste me, take me, let me” the possibility for more, fuck….so much for Jesus freak right?!

That want inducing wine, from one of the most beautiful places in the world making love to me last night, reminding me just how good I can feel along with this morning’s watching the world come to life, the starting of a new day full of hope, light, smells and sounds, the possibility for more. Wine has once again spun my little head on straight and is standing behind me, pushing me, making me feel stronger, flipping my want switch, making me crave….inspiring me. Woke me from my foggy slumber just to be near it again. Little pool of lover still in my glass, sun now bright in the sky, neighbors leaving for work and school, the hum from the freeway louder and racing with commuters….awake, my city, me, my desire, my drive.



webb said...

Definitely the wine calling to you. what a great way to start the day (well, if you were a morning person... which you are not!) maybe you all can hook up again tonight.

Valerie said...

Your projection of those ungodly early morning hours (of which I've seen way too many) is a little more sensuous. And here I was thinking the only other people awake at those were on the radio talking about how they've been abducted by aliens. I like your imagery better. Wine was surely calling you - your tasting notes induce a dreamlike state in themselves. Want. Brava.

Samantha Dugan said...

I think so too and we will meet again, trust me on that.

Maybe more sensuous only because the first time I really sat still long enough to actually absorb it was my first night/morning in Paris...dude, the smells there, unreal and have clearly stained me with a rather romantic notion of the ass crack of dawn. That and wicked white Burgundy just gets, me, off.

chris said...

Lovely, Sam. Your words are as stunning as the sunrise.

Samantha Dugan said...

seems as if a few comments were lost during the time Blogger was out. Just wanted to thank everyone for reading and posting, sorry your comments were lost.