Ezzy
Insignificantly Important
- Joined
- Apr 16, 2000
- Posts
- 2,252
Dated 11/12/00
I was in that strange place between sleep and wakefulness, merrily drifting between the two, when a dream crept into my straying mind.
I could feel a whisper tickling my subconscious, one of those irrepressible tingly feelings, which you have to worry about until you get some light to shine upon it.
The concept that I arrived at took some time getting a handle on, but I believe that I now have it right. I looked at all the books on fountains and water features in the library, and I have done all the calculations of flow rates that they recommend.
A week last Saturday I began the construction. Although it took most of the week, I am happy to say it now looks about half done.
On Saturday I looked over my land, and found what I think is the perfect spot. I marked out the outline and worked out the proportions of the rocks and sculpture.
On Sunday I was awake at first light and out on the land before the rest of the house had stirred. There is something driving me to do this project.
The backhoe had arrived at dusk on Saturday. I began the day digging out for the foundations and levelling the rest of the site. The backhoe had to be returned early on Monday morning, so I toiled hard all that day to complete the work requiring it.
On Monday morning I ordered the concrete and by 10 AM the first load had been tamped down. The last load arrived at 7 PM and I had finally finished the concrete pour having worked the entire day.
On Tuesday morning I ordered the washed sand, and they were able to deliver a load right away. I was lucky the truck had just been called back to the yard with a cancelled order, and I was able to start spreading by 9 AM. The second load arrived just after noon, and the last load just after 4 PM, which I levelled before dusk.
Each night I had tumbled into bed, worn to the bone with the days' labour, only to find myself dreaming the dream again each and every night.
On Wednesday I could barely move when I got out of bed, my muscles all-stiff from the last days’ work, the spur in my soul drove me out as first light coloured the clouds with pink edges. I worked till dusk, setting the bricks’ of the restraining walls, as I tapped the last brick into its mortar bed, the clouds were touched with the reds of sunset.
On Thursday the last of the sand was spread up to the brickwork and I worked on the gentle curve all round the edge. In the afternoon the pond liner arrived. The driver kindly craned it over the retaining wall, he helped me set it in place and also pointed out that I would need more sand, to sit the rocks on that he would be bringing on Friday. Damn, I had failed to spot that the rocks would rip the liner if I didn’t sit them on something.
On Friday I worried and paced from dawn until just before 11 AM when the driver turned up with my rocks and the extra sand that I needed. He explained that the boring I had ordered through the rock, had take longer than they had thought it would. We worked together spreading a thick bed of sand for the rocks to sit on.
I plumbed the hose into the rock, and we craned the rocks into place making sure they settled without puncturing the liner.
He left at 3 PM, I worked on until only 6 PM and the lower half of the main structure was finished.
I was now at the point of creating the sculpture, I had dreamed so vividly about. The end of a hard weeks’ work saw me lying in bed happy with what had been completed, but still haunted by the dream that night, as I had been all through the week.
Dated 11/19/00
Well another seven days of working, trying to capture in stone the image that I dreamed of every night, a week of sweat and stone dust and it looks to be complete. I must say without trying to be immodest about it, it has all worked out better than I could have ever hoped for. The realism I have achieved is beyond my wildest dreams.
The figure of a man stands on the rocks in the middle of a new lake on my land. Reaching with his hands and erect phallus for a water nymph, she is half out of the water, her breasts lapped by the wind driven waves, a smile playing across her lips.
He wears my face and she has the face and body of my love.
Dated 11/20/00
After just less than three weeks, working every hour of every day and dreaming each night the same dream. Living this reality that has become the expression of my life. I don’t know if I can survive the shock and horror of it all. As I saw that all my attempts to realise my hopes and dreams have now been ruined.
When I came out this morning, I was petrified to see that although he is still on the rocks in the middle of the lake, the look on the water nymphs face had changed, and her head is now turned away from him. He still reaches for her, with longing in his eyes, but his once proud erect phallus is now diminished.
No matter how strong the muse or how well I have built it all; it has failed to keep the promise of my dreams.
“Why?” I hear you cry.
The dream; it is all because of the dream. Those words keep repeating over and over again in my mind.
If you build it he will cum.
I was in that strange place between sleep and wakefulness, merrily drifting between the two, when a dream crept into my straying mind.
I could feel a whisper tickling my subconscious, one of those irrepressible tingly feelings, which you have to worry about until you get some light to shine upon it.
The concept that I arrived at took some time getting a handle on, but I believe that I now have it right. I looked at all the books on fountains and water features in the library, and I have done all the calculations of flow rates that they recommend.
A week last Saturday I began the construction. Although it took most of the week, I am happy to say it now looks about half done.
On Saturday I looked over my land, and found what I think is the perfect spot. I marked out the outline and worked out the proportions of the rocks and sculpture.
On Sunday I was awake at first light and out on the land before the rest of the house had stirred. There is something driving me to do this project.
The backhoe had arrived at dusk on Saturday. I began the day digging out for the foundations and levelling the rest of the site. The backhoe had to be returned early on Monday morning, so I toiled hard all that day to complete the work requiring it.
On Monday morning I ordered the concrete and by 10 AM the first load had been tamped down. The last load arrived at 7 PM and I had finally finished the concrete pour having worked the entire day.
On Tuesday morning I ordered the washed sand, and they were able to deliver a load right away. I was lucky the truck had just been called back to the yard with a cancelled order, and I was able to start spreading by 9 AM. The second load arrived just after noon, and the last load just after 4 PM, which I levelled before dusk.
Each night I had tumbled into bed, worn to the bone with the days' labour, only to find myself dreaming the dream again each and every night.
On Wednesday I could barely move when I got out of bed, my muscles all-stiff from the last days’ work, the spur in my soul drove me out as first light coloured the clouds with pink edges. I worked till dusk, setting the bricks’ of the restraining walls, as I tapped the last brick into its mortar bed, the clouds were touched with the reds of sunset.
On Thursday the last of the sand was spread up to the brickwork and I worked on the gentle curve all round the edge. In the afternoon the pond liner arrived. The driver kindly craned it over the retaining wall, he helped me set it in place and also pointed out that I would need more sand, to sit the rocks on that he would be bringing on Friday. Damn, I had failed to spot that the rocks would rip the liner if I didn’t sit them on something.
On Friday I worried and paced from dawn until just before 11 AM when the driver turned up with my rocks and the extra sand that I needed. He explained that the boring I had ordered through the rock, had take longer than they had thought it would. We worked together spreading a thick bed of sand for the rocks to sit on.
I plumbed the hose into the rock, and we craned the rocks into place making sure they settled without puncturing the liner.
He left at 3 PM, I worked on until only 6 PM and the lower half of the main structure was finished.
I was now at the point of creating the sculpture, I had dreamed so vividly about. The end of a hard weeks’ work saw me lying in bed happy with what had been completed, but still haunted by the dream that night, as I had been all through the week.
Dated 11/19/00
Well another seven days of working, trying to capture in stone the image that I dreamed of every night, a week of sweat and stone dust and it looks to be complete. I must say without trying to be immodest about it, it has all worked out better than I could have ever hoped for. The realism I have achieved is beyond my wildest dreams.
The figure of a man stands on the rocks in the middle of a new lake on my land. Reaching with his hands and erect phallus for a water nymph, she is half out of the water, her breasts lapped by the wind driven waves, a smile playing across her lips.
He wears my face and she has the face and body of my love.
Dated 11/20/00
After just less than three weeks, working every hour of every day and dreaming each night the same dream. Living this reality that has become the expression of my life. I don’t know if I can survive the shock and horror of it all. As I saw that all my attempts to realise my hopes and dreams have now been ruined.
When I came out this morning, I was petrified to see that although he is still on the rocks in the middle of the lake, the look on the water nymphs face had changed, and her head is now turned away from him. He still reaches for her, with longing in his eyes, but his once proud erect phallus is now diminished.
No matter how strong the muse or how well I have built it all; it has failed to keep the promise of my dreams.
“Why?” I hear you cry.
The dream; it is all because of the dream. Those words keep repeating over and over again in my mind.
If you build it he will cum.
