A pleasant Sunday afternoon, when not gigging or on tour, is to lay down on the lounge in the living room and, read a good book. As a rule, I read just about anything, but the Sunday read has to be one of a lighter nature; a Spike Milligan memoir, a spy thriller, A Rumple of the Bailey short story or, a who dun-nit.
If the week has been overloaded with work, meetings, people visits, gigs and ‘late nights’ then I’ll read but a few pages before I fall into the best of sleeps. I think this may have been why God invented Sunday’s… so that we could drift off into that beautiful dreamy sleep world… a realm in which the sub conscious rules supreme. These are the happiest of times and I wish more days would leave me feeling as relaxed and ‘glad to be alive’ as my Sunday arvo’s do.
Like the proverbial cat, I may sleep for just a minute, before waking briefly to the sound of a passing car, the ring of telephone, the noisy upstairs neighbor, before dozing off again, returning to my favorite town of Neverland.
I don’t need more than 15-20 minutes to find that ‘all is well in the world’ feeling and, for some time after, I carry with me a notion that I have been somewhere special.
It is in the waking from these cat naps that my eyes open to the shapes on the ceiling. My sub conscious still in charge, my child like imagination sees a world unfold above me. Were the plasterers of the 30’s aware of their handiwork? Were they leaving messages for some sleepy eyed musician in the next century to interpret? Is there something I am meant to do with all this information… write a song, tweet the president… or just relax and enjoy.
Right above me I see a lion in roaring motion. Looking into the face of the roaring lion and, very much unperturbed, I must say, is Leprechaun with a very long chin and a tall pointy hat… oh maybe he’s supposed to be Merlin, for I now see a very wobbly wand in his right hand. If I told my head to the right, the Lion looks more like a dolphin with the tail of a horse. The Leprechaun already knew that I guess… which was why he wasn’t worried about the toothy snarl of the Lion… which was really a Dolphin. I think it’s a mermaid who’s under the dolphin. Well that would make sense. But the Mermaid’s tail, if I tilt my head to the left is a bird in full flight. Oh there so much to ponder and… enjoy.
I wonder, is every ceiling a stage, on which men, woman, lions, leprechauns and dolphins are merely players?
I’ve only examined but a square foot of the ceiling when there’s a knock on the door.
My delightful sojourn into my very own Peter Pan moment is at an end.
Till next Sunday afternoon.