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Mpls, MN, United States

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Incidents & Accidents

Sunday, August 21, 2005

"Crazy, I'm thinking, just knowing that the world is round..."

Last night as I was driving home from Toledo, I suddenly noticed that the moon was on the other side of the car than it had been. I felt like a kid again, watching the moon jump from side to side as I rode in the backseat.

I don't think one even has to have started driving for this illusion to fade--one just has to have been born with some sense of direction. I'm fairly competent in many areas of my life, but that's not one of them.

Bryant once told me he pretty much always knows which way is north; he's always kind of thinking about it. I wondered what I was always thinking about... and realized it was color. He would have looked at the moon and known we were traveling south; I was thinking about how it was yellow and glowing in a rosy slate sky.

I was returning from a shindig to kick off the year and welcome the incoming grads, held at the house of the Director of the School of Art. Her background is in architecture, and she had designed and built a modernist house up against a deciduous wood, which could be enjoyed either from the back balcony or, thanks to a two-story wall of windows facing it, inside the house. (The window walls were perfectly soundproof, so you could be on the balcony and see people talking loudly inside, but not hear a thing.)

Her kitchen was a horseshoe-shaped island in the middle of the room off the balcony, with a wrap-around deck perfect for a buffet. It was really an ideal house for this sort of gathering (the best-attended I've been to; there were probably around 50 of us there) but several people remarked to me that they wondered what it would be like actually living there.

If I'm one day the director of an art school, perhaps I'll just have to find out.

2 comments:

Ted (er, Logan) said...

For some reason, I happened to posess some sort of sense of absolute direction. Most of the time I can tell exactly which way is north, although sometimes twisting around in the windowless innards of buildings can confuse me.

(Maybe it helps that I live in Colorado, so if I'm ever curious which way is west I can look for the mountains and know that's west.)

Sometimes this sense invades my dreams; I know which way is north in completely imaginary landscapes, which is a bit bizarre.

Cerise said...

Cheers, Ted Logan!

I have never ever known which way was north in a dream (and rarely in waking life)--but I have had entire dreams in the color of, say, orange.