I’ve been asleep. I dreamed of a desert.
My last scrapbook page was portraits of the birds in hats. You may remember that Hawk chose a white plumed hat with a blue ribbon.
I was surprised by Hawk’s preferred hat. Hawk explained that it was not an aesthetic choice, but a metaphysical one. This particular hat reminds Hawk of an avian creation myth which he relates thus:
White Bird laid an egg.
The egg was the world.
White Bird sits on the egg; it is night.
White Bird flies, up up up, away; egg is cold.
White Bird goes to her friend, Blue Snake.
Snake gives her a but-recently shed skin.
It, like Snake, is shimmery blue.
White Bird carries the blue strip of Blue Snake back to the egg.
Now, before she flies up, up, up, away,
she wraps the egg with blue skin.
It is the sky.
Sometimes a few downy feathers stick to the skin.
They are clouds.
Hawk is far too worldly to believe in this myth, but, does believe personal journeys constellate in mythological structures.
Hawk asked me to share this primitive bird story with you before I fall back asleep.
I don’t know why I’m so sleepy these days! I am a worn-out Odalisque. Maybe that will be my next scrapbook page: “worn-out Odalisque”. It must be the birds, with all their bitter questionings, exhausting me.