Remebering algebra class

"In zen and the art of algebra
there is no value for time."
-John Cale "Zen"

As I lay, restless, yesterday's down swing still sits fat on my neck. I really do not have a thought as to where this post is going, so it will be a surprise for all. I was reminded of the snippet above from a John Cale song--i still do not know how it arrived to be on my iPod--it always strikes me, though, the times it would slide into the rotation. There is no real narrative to the lyrics, no meaning or 'plot' to follow. The words of the lyrics blend into the music to a point that the one can not exist without the other--becoming some Lryic..beautiful, but impossible to understand...much short of but similar to the gliding voice of an aria...the unequivical beauty of words never really meant to be understoond, but felt...carried forth...remembered.

I thought of this while working on Sophia's room with Amy...we would lose hours in there...leaving the left side of our brains outside, we danced--inside--as we taped, rolled, brushed..she with light pink, I with the darker. There was no waiting in her room...she was there with us...no presence to felt with finger tips...just the soul's knowing what the fingers can not touch and the eyes can not see.