The Monsters Over My Bed

Remember the flooding from a thunderstorm I casually mentioned? About...six days ago? Our floor was easy to mop up, but our walls are still damp to the touch. Every day I wake up to this monster above our bed, this chameleon of a monster that over the past week has slowly changed from a cheerful grey with promises of white re-emerging, to a slightly yellowish green of someone who's moved in without an invitation.

But how does one dry out a wall? We've tried running the air conditioner constantly, or opening windows, leaving the door wide to circulate air, and still whenever I lay my palm to the stains they feel cool, calm, and wet.

So I've started accepting this monster. In fact, when you look at it closely, so close that you can smell it's steadily increasing mildewy scent, there's some beauty in there.


When each piece is fragmented they turn into inkblots, and when my hands are pressed against that cool wet wall I can't help but start psychoanalyzing my interpretations.

On the left there is my friend the bat. And those two dots? A sideways monster with a long nose and skinny neck.


The top of this one looks like clouds and a bird with a very large wingspan.


This one reminds me of Western Europe.


Mmm this one is special. The photo is flattened out but it's really a little ledge that was covered with droplets of water the day of the flood. I think of ten thousand things when I look at this part, but strongest perhaps are burning plains on a horizon. Innate New Mexico fears.



What do you see?

I think I'll keep it, this monster of mine filled with worlds. If it starts to fade I'll lovingly touch up it's edges with a wet paintbrush. Someday maybe it'll grow a fuzzy thick covering of mold and then it will really be alive.

Or I could just wait until the next big thunderstorm and see what happens.