pomegranates.

Last night I was watching Bryna cut up a pomegranate {see above} & it made me dream about pomegranates... I was in a kitchen that was not mine, & I was chewing palmfuls of the seeds, then spitting them out into my hands, & smearing the juice on my nightgown. It was quite bizarre, with little pools of red juice all over the floor. I am not exactly sure what this signifies -- I know what may have provoked the images, obviously, but the eating-spitting-smearing is not how I usually interact with pomegranates. I like to eat them in pilaf or just by themselves. My only theory is that I was Persephone, you know, & I suddenly realized if I ate all the pomegranate seeds it would be winter forever. So I thought that I'd spit out a few, to keep the season a little shorter, perhaps, because my mother (& I'm sure, many other people) would be disappointed if winter lasted toooo long....

Speaking of pomegranates, remind me of when I was in Grade 2 & brought a pomegranate for show-&-tell, but it was almost gone by the end of the day because I kept it in my desk & kept stuffing the kernels into my mouth.

Pomegranates also make me think of Loreena McKennitt, who I just discovered made another CD! She hasn't done that in nearly ten years. So, so lovely. Her music always reminds me of being 14 and reading The Golden Compass series & faerytale books late into the night & listening to her music & crying because some of it was so thoroughly gorgeous & writing poems that sounded too much like Yeats & hiking in the snow in Jasper at Christmas & dreaming about someday wandering across Scotland or taking the Trans-Siberian Railway across the Urals... & just being a strange little 14-year-old, but in a good way. The really idealistic, hopeful sort of way, being lost in the things that I love.