Moon

I think the moon is incredibly sexy. I woke up this morning to write, and the moon still burned outside, up above the trees, above our neighbors' home, against the blue sky. It is--or was just recently--a full moon, and it's interesting how people are affected by its pull. I was memorized just a few days ago as I drove over the Broadway Bridge; the moon looked three or four times its normal size, and it was orange, orange, orange; I smiled at it. We've all heard how people get more sexual, more violent, more crazy during the full moon. We've all heard the werewolf legends, when they transform, when we have to get our silver bullets ready for action. I can't help but think the moon is so powerful, holds such a sway over us, because our bodies are composed mostly of water. I've heard different percentages--70% to 95%--but no matter what the percentage is, it's like we're all miniature oceans, and we're tides being pulled. We're connected, magnetic-like, to the moon's rays. Who knows what it does to our insides, the tugs and shifts, the messing with our organs? I have lots to say on the sun, too, but the moon is the underdog in this equation. I always root for the underdog. The moon is associated with nighttime, with the dark, with secrets. But if all of Life is Yin-and-Yang, then the sun and the moon are perfect lovers. I'm curious what all your thoughts are on the moon, how it affects us. I have the strangest dreams during full moons (I accidentally just wrote "fool moons" and caught my error -- hmmm....). Last night's collection of dreams: a new song by Tori playing on the radio as I drove into downtown Portland (on the Broadway Bridge, I believe); visiting my father in his new office, and he was changing, and I caught a glimpse of his near-naked flesh, and his back was all werewolf hairy, and Mary Ann was at the receptionist's desk, answering phones, and Pierce Brosnan (!) had just finished some time in the steam room and had a towel wrapped around his waist and was headed back somewhere to change; I was interviewing Elisabeth Shue, and she wanted some undercover job away from acting, and she was confiding in me all her secrets as I sat across from her at an oak desk.

Do any of you know Goodnight, Moon? That book breaks my heart. I think it's because of the movie Dancing about Architecture (a.k.a. Playing by Heart) and the scene where Ellen Burstyn's character reads it to her son, played by Jay Mohr, on his deathbed. Straight to the tear ducts.