Palette

The colour of the place is a variable. It's not something that I take note of. What I know is that, it's more the ambience of the place that suits me and my taste. The entire world is coloured in the colours that I love.. strong, deep colours.

The characters that I meet are also of all different sizes and colours. There's an Iranian Muslim woman who comes into the bar like clockwork every day at nine. Note the fact I've never met an Iranian in my life. She's a tall, fair woman with beautiful, pale gray eyes.... dressed in cool pastels and wearing a wispy tudung. Her clothing is that of an progressive Muslim,... attractively designed yet body concealing pantsuits. A smart briefcase which she sets on the bar. Positively wicked stillettos.

But she covers half her face with the scarf. I guess she's kind of like a confirmation of my own personal belief that women who observe all the commandments of the Koran in a moderate way can still satisfy their own personal agreements with God. She's a lovely lady... cracking jokes with the bartender, ordering virgin drinks everyday... [Note : virgin = non-alcoholic] SHe asks me how my day was and tells me about her work as an Islamic lawyer.

Interesting...

First Constant

I've been dreaming about a couple places I've never been to.

One is a quiet bar that is the essence of all those quiet, smoky lil' backroom bars where tired men go to drown their sorrows, there's a lone pianist in the corner, and the bartender always know your name.

It's a small lil' bar... Maybe that's an exaggeration,... a medium sized bar, with a raised circular dais in the corner upon which a lone piano sits. It's a pretty piano... shiny and black, but it's sound has the mellow tone of a piano that's well-used and well tuned. A quiet Chinese man sits at it's keys,... Idly playing any tune that comes to his mind. Little shimmies of music. An occasional smooth tune, a couple of wistful, sad melodies, and the odd jagged riff that comes up.

It is his mood that sets the mood for the place.It feels like a stream, with occasional ripples and currents that draw you in. His constantly moving fingers set the backbeat of the room.And this was the first in my series of dreams... it was like my mind was establishing the constant of the room. That quiet little Chinese man in the corner... letting his mind meld with the music..