Alright.
This sure isn't the first in the Arctic Dream series, but it has been nagging me all day to jot whatever is left of it down. .... Even this popped up in a google search for who knows what:
and it could be an image from my dream if the sky was burnished orange, if one, or more, of those shapes looked like the Statue of Liberty or a Sleeping Buddha.
Okay. In brief. Why always in brief? I have secured my ticket north just now. I don't think I will 'miss the boat' but ... well, perhaps one wants always an excuse up front. "In Brief" as all the spectacular, in this case TEXTURAL details likely won't make the cut.
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Not fully sure where the dream starts. Maybe in the middle as I pop my head out of the cabin, many people behind me and we are in full sail, and though I am frightened, I do LOVE it. We tilt and take the wind and I feel I might be okay.
Before long at all we stop at a pier. Andrea is there and hops off for a pee. Because I've had two beers, I hop off too but the line is insanely long. (This the detail of endless women and scents and clothes I will leave out). I really have to pee I guess and promise to be quick and go into the stall where there is a full shower running and I can't seem to get it all done quickly. I guess I finally do. Andrea, who was waiting, says she doesn't need to. Really? We come out and the ship is G O N E!
It is true we had been warned not to get off for long at any stop but I can't believe they wouldn't count the passengers. I remember from the manual where they will dock next. There is some fuss and planning about getting a taxi boat to catch up with the expedition, but it seems increasingly unlikely.
We are in a Kodiak in a crowded Russian-maybe bay and Andrea tells me something about how Chelsea is funded by India and all those things you buy there fund the infidels. Something like that, but I am impressed by her understanding of what's going on in the world. (weird)
We find some hotel (omitting detailed but willfully relegated now to forgotten details). We come down after awhile for a dinner. She, with her always fabulous figure has on a bikini and some fabulous golden outfit that just ties in the back with no back. It seems she is dressed for a massage. A massage?!? Not only are we late for dinner. Not only have I missed the boat.. but she is going to get a massage? I walk the populated strand and look out at the molten water and the pull of the colors and the vast remoteness and remember the feeling of sailing and realize I have been left behind and realize I am missing the VERY most beautiful evening of my life.
I look out to the sea and iceburgs float but really do look like the image above, darkened against the horizon. There, like the weird anthropomorphic creatures of Arches National Park, are figurines of humanity. I recognize the Statue of Liberty. Not all are clear. Some are just natural forms But weird and compelling. I recognize that the most beautiful evening of my life is growing more beautiful even, would be more amazing if I was on that ship but soon will end. And I have, in fact, missed the boat. That there is the tiniest hope that we could catch up almost makes it worse. I have missed it. And that's it.
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I won't analyze a lot of this here but that I get off the boat to join my sister, who is dead, is scary.
I think I am working through a lot of deep trepidation already.
And I already like it.
