Writing on the Wall

I have a friend who writes on her bedroom wall. Her bedroom for this winter is the smallest in her house, used sometimes as her creative space, and so chosen for winter sleeping, because it costs less to heat. 

She says when she is getting tired reading, before she turns out the lights, when she is already in that noddy, sleepy state, when the head begins to drop, then snaps up wakeful and surprised, she says that the thoughts and poems and words she has written there carefully, in her small neat hand, in pencil, resemble lines like cracks in a sidewalk, or marbling in a tile floor.  Or ancient words on the walls of a cave.  She likes the look of it.

She knows she can tell me these things, but would not tell others.  “People would think I’ve lost it!”

I nod as we walk.  I am intrigued by her sincere revelation.  I think it is a brave, and only very slightly, screwy thing to do. I know her as a kind, patient, gentle soul who reflects deeply on matters at hand and human interactions.  She processes slowly, she has told me.  She likes to watch movies at least twice, and re-reads books for the same reasons.  “I get something new out of it the second time, something I missed when I first saw it or watched it.” She’s careful, thrifty, compassionate.  Introverted, her quiet presence can erupt in a loud laugh, head thrown back, at a funny story or a random one-liner.  I can make her laugh and I like to do it, like the see the zaniness that lies beneath the surface of the quietness.

My friend is not a person given to mindless neglect of property or possessions.  This nocturnal activity seems at odds with the person who lines her trunk, so as not to get it dirty, has a small rug on top of her car mat for the same reason.  She is meticulous and detail oriented; likes to make plans, but has been known to badger herself into spontaneity when an opportunity knocks.   Yet I think about the freedom that one would need to possess to write on their bedroom wall late at night, by lamplight.  It is freedom itself, to feel that freedom.