Love Letter To Paul Watts
I wrote this letter July 23 1998 5:33 p.m to a boy who was stuck in Alberta and missed the Vancouver rain. I told him on the phone I'd write him a letter about rain and I did while waiting outside the Vancouver Art Gallery for my pal Chad to get off work. It started to sprinkle on the hot sunny day as I penned this sweetness to a boy who never got it. The letter got sent back to me because he had abruptly moved out of is sisters newly turned ex boyfriends' house and I lost track of him - when I got the letter back I read it to a few friends who got me to read it other friends... until eventually I was reading to groups of people at small intimate art openings and open mic nights. Eventually it got published in a book of pan sexual erotica - its my only adult publish in a full-on book. Reading in public terrifies me yet I want to do it more than anything and also do narration and voice over on radio and in film - those are the arty dreams currently taking a back seat to more academic pursuits that grip my interest/intellect and soul searching for a meaningful, practical vocation that serves the world at large, feeds me well with travel and rich opportunities and promises longevity with a financial safety net. In any case I have not yet stored this favorite piece of writting electronically so I thought here and now since I'm awake and thinking of it killing time till tired beats out wired and I get sleepy. Imagine the sexiest most sultry voice you can manage - then times it by 10 and that is what I sound like live. I will copy it exactly as it was first writen despite it might benifiet a rewrite or at least some minor editing... this is first draft off the cuff, from the heart.
Dear Paul
I like to lay half in the sun and half in the shade. I like to lay on textured things that leave temporary impressions on my flesh. Today I laid in my room naked in the late morning/early afternoon. Sprawled sideways across my bed, which I've moved close to the window. Bamboo blinds cast shadows across my body, heat melted me. In retaliation of the heat I dreamt of rain (and you). In my dream I lay clothed in a thin white button down shirt and faded blue jean cut-offs on a huge rope hammock. I was asleep with a novel on the ground below me and my shirt was asque revealing a portion of one breast. You came along in the quiet way you do and perched yourself on a big wood barrel. You just sat there watching the clouds change from friendly to other. You sat there waiting for my favorite thing watching the sky and looking at me hard. I was trying to dream the way you think and you where trying to think the way I dream. Then it happened the way it always does when the heat of the day is to much for the earth. The big fat, heavy drops began to to plummet down torpedoes of H20 from the sky to the earth. As my body intercepted a mere few drops you just sat there and watched each one bust into a million tinier ones against my skin. My shirt became transparent, my nipples hard yet I did not stir for fear of breaking the dream that it was raining and you where here.
Love Jade
*Jade is a middle name I gave myself legally at age 14 while changing my surname to match my mothers maiden name reflecting the family that was raising me as I do not know my birth father and have no connection to his namesake. I reckoned Jade would be a good pen name if I ever grew up to become a writer - so its an intimate name I gave myself in troubled times - it represents a dream of a future I wasn't sure I'd live to see. I'm here now yet not quite a full on writer in any professional sense but when I write something that moves even me in all my self criticism I sign it Jade on occasion, to honor that young girl who dared to dream. I am baby stepping my way onto stages and reading mostly erotica but will be branching into other things with college english in the fall. I have to get faster and more proficient at typing so thought I'd practice by typing all the kick ass and mediocre love letters and journal entries I've hand penned over the years. Some of them will make it on here - some will hide on my desk top.
Dear Paul
I like to lay half in the sun and half in the shade. I like to lay on textured things that leave temporary impressions on my flesh. Today I laid in my room naked in the late morning/early afternoon. Sprawled sideways across my bed, which I've moved close to the window. Bamboo blinds cast shadows across my body, heat melted me. In retaliation of the heat I dreamt of rain (and you). In my dream I lay clothed in a thin white button down shirt and faded blue jean cut-offs on a huge rope hammock. I was asleep with a novel on the ground below me and my shirt was asque revealing a portion of one breast. You came along in the quiet way you do and perched yourself on a big wood barrel. You just sat there watching the clouds change from friendly to other. You sat there waiting for my favorite thing watching the sky and looking at me hard. I was trying to dream the way you think and you where trying to think the way I dream. Then it happened the way it always does when the heat of the day is to much for the earth. The big fat, heavy drops began to to plummet down torpedoes of H20 from the sky to the earth. As my body intercepted a mere few drops you just sat there and watched each one bust into a million tinier ones against my skin. My shirt became transparent, my nipples hard yet I did not stir for fear of breaking the dream that it was raining and you where here.
Love Jade
*Jade is a middle name I gave myself legally at age 14 while changing my surname to match my mothers maiden name reflecting the family that was raising me as I do not know my birth father and have no connection to his namesake. I reckoned Jade would be a good pen name if I ever grew up to become a writer - so its an intimate name I gave myself in troubled times - it represents a dream of a future I wasn't sure I'd live to see. I'm here now yet not quite a full on writer in any professional sense but when I write something that moves even me in all my self criticism I sign it Jade on occasion, to honor that young girl who dared to dream. I am baby stepping my way onto stages and reading mostly erotica but will be branching into other things with college english in the fall. I have to get faster and more proficient at typing so thought I'd practice by typing all the kick ass and mediocre love letters and journal entries I've hand penned over the years. Some of them will make it on here - some will hide on my desk top.