Swinging on the swing set in our backyard. This is one of my first memories of childhood. I was alone and the sun was hot but I was protected by the shade of a big tree. Thousands of monarch cocoons dotted the edge of the long bungalow we lived in. Their cocoons were multicoloured and shiny and I could see them as I swung back-and-forth, back-and-forth. The repetition was soothing; predictable. The rows of cocoons were military-straight.
For years now I have dreamt the same recurring dream. I am somewhere dark, damp and decaying. A house where I get lost or chased after or see disturbing things. Maybe a backyard pool that is abandoned and overgrown with mold and vegetation.. The scene may change from time to time but the theme is clear. Death, decay and abandonment. Nothing can be saved, nothing redeemed. But for one thing - it is safe inside my cocoon, at least for now.
