This all mixes together time-wise...
Partly a conductor died. He was a black man and had conducted orchestras in the 40s and 50s until a few years back. (not a real person) He had passed away and it was a great loss to the city. Many people loved this man, not only for his talents but I guess he was a wonderful person. Many people had donated money for his memorial. A life sized statue was created to go in some great hall (in a greater city) to memorialize him. The statue was painted and kind of shiny... something like how you see some Mary/Jesus statues where it is colorful, a bit realistic (like a mannequin) and shiny. They had his statue created to look like him in the 40s or 50s. He was looking up with a large grin. The memorial was in the evening and I was attending school. Highschool? College? extended studies? I walked over to one of my classrooms which was empty. I think it was a science class. I saw some of my notebooks on the floor and my stomach sank. One of them had writings of my dreams (like this blog) and my dreams of what I wanted in life... and other things. I could see the top cover had been curled back, so I know someone read them. I could just imagine what they might think. I opened it up to see if they left any commentary.Someone, I am assuming a guy, had drawn doodles where I had... I think he was meaning to relate to me... or almost communicated.... like "yeah, me too..."
I picked up my things and moved over to a wall and sat down on the floor. I saw there was a magazine... it was from the NYT and it was cover to cover photos and writings on the conductor that just died. I was sitting next to the ? old bench (really a radiator) for the room where old magazine were put and tossed it up there for their collection. I thought that might be a nice surprise for someone. Then I looked out and it was raining. I was in a covered spot, but there were stacks of chairs and tables right in front of me that were getting rained on. Two little things moved under the chairs. I could see they were trying not to get wet. I called them out and two little wiener dogs came peeking out. Old ones.... a little chubby and gray around the eyes. They came hobbling out and I pet and scratched them. They had old collars around them made of metal and vintage glass beads. I loved the sound because it tinkled like rain on glass. I knew the owner of the dog was a rich older black lady. I knew she would be by for the dogs sooner or later.
Then I was with an exboyfriend. We were going to the beach and we were enjoying each other's company.... or I thought we were. I realized we were just both finally relaxing around each other. Walking along the water, getting in the water, paying attention to each other and so on. He went to go get or do something and then a feeling hit my stomach like a pebble in water and rippled out to the rest of me. I realized I was about to do it again. I was about to stay with something because it was nice-ish and there, and what seemed to take little effort. In actuality it took much effort, but just on the inside. Instead of going for what I wanted and having the "effort" be on the outside.... yet really wouldn't be effort because it would excite me to do.
. . .
A friend of mine (ex boss, friend, schoolmate) was living in the West Hills... He was talking about that he went to this little church downtown. I thought that odd, interesting and nice at the same time. The West Hills meant he had succeeded (financially at least).. and the church and family felt like he had found a happy place. I was happy for him.