Blog of the Day - June 24, 2005

My writing assignment for today: Write about what you see by starlight. Feel free to join in!

By starlight
the moon spreads
her gossamer net
taking captive
hill, dale and stream
forest deep
andopen field

By starlight
dreary tenements
translate into
dusky streets
taut with mystery
and excitement

By starlight
houses ruined by daylight
become ensorcelled
enigmas
oracles of the unknown

By starlight
the debris of living
is transformed
into a Chinese puzzle
of night.

I'm taking a writing workshop this summer. It's fun, motivating and lots of work.

I rode to work this morning with the windows down. The late night plundering of now whispy nimbus relinquishes power to cirrus, sweet nector, is a gift from the gods. Cumulous cool, moist air catapulted into my lungs, crashing through veins and capillaries with glee. Like a tall glass of cool water, soggy oxygen poured through my body, icy and invigorating, an unstoppable flood. Saturated brain cells, reviving and reveling in the sustenance of life woke. Steamy clams, with hungry mouths they devoured their drippy feast, carousing with the exstacy of being alive!

I liked it too (lol!.

Blog of the Day - June 13, 2005

Well, it's not Friday the 13th, but it could be. I haven't blogged in a while. I've been busy and want to get my life in order before I jump into blogging. The only problem is, my life leans heavily towards disorder, so it's an unending battle to organize the unorganizeable. Is that a word? Hmmm.

Anyway, a name sparked my interest, and my creativity, tonight. So here's a poem to the Monkey Puzzle Tree. My blog for the moment.

Monkey Puzzle
Puzzle Tree
Puzzle you and
puzzle me

tall you stand
above the rest

more to follow

Blog of the Day - April 29th - 05

So, I haven't posted for a while. The third eye surgery was successful - yes! I can't see much out of it, yet, but I won't need another 'detached retina' surgery -- I hope -- I hope -- I hope.

My daughter gave me a list of her contemplations from school and they are so cool. I thought I'd try one here. Check it out.

Reflect upon the metaphors you live by. If you were to compare life to some activity, what would you compare it to? Spend a day observing the connection between this metaphor and your daily experience. How does your metaphor apply to your interactions? In which cases does it prove helpful, and in which cases does it not apply? Observe and write.

Okay, here it is. It took me a bit to get a handle on 'metaphor.' The metaphor that comes to mind when I compare life to an activity is: Life is breathing. As I inhale I take in the same substance that I have taken in for fifty-odd years. As I exhale I breath out the same substance I have sent out for my entire life. But just because the substances are the same, there are small differences. I take in information but is it the same information I took in when I was five years old? No, I have changed. The information I provide is not the same either. I slept with my sister when I was a child, meaning we slept in the same bed. I slept with my husband on our wedding night, a very different form of 'sleep'. I slept with my dog last night, a third type of sleep. My sister and I kept each other warm during long cold winter nights, my husband and I spent passionate nights exploring each other's bodies, my dog nestled up next to me, comforting me with his closeness.

So, how is this helpful? Well, I can see where my life is the same, and yet different. There is a continuity that is comfortable and comforting. This provides a pattern that proves to me that life is not random nor is it unknowable. So, where does it not apply? Hmm, that may be harder. When I try something new, for the first time, the consequences may be unknowable. Thus, despite the fact that I've taken in life and distributed life, my life is not static, and I am not in a state of stasis. My life contains elements that are unknowable.

Melanmycholy Anyone?

I love feeling sad, sometimes. i wrap the quiet no, not sadness, melancholy around me. The word itself wraps itself around my tongue like melted licorish that seeps slowly, luxuriously into each sensitive pore. Music, draws me into her mellow arms and caresses my soul until I pool into myself and surfeit, dissipate into the cool waiting moon. Sighs, hooded eyes seek their meridian senses drink deeply of the low slow music drawing me line by line into immortality.