My life was full of things I couldn’t do; so this was just something else to add to the list.
Doctor’s told me I would first lose lines and then light. Soon I would find out everything we see is a combination of lines and light.
I spent hours studying the shapes of letters so I wouldn’t forget their unique stories.
Sitting with my paintings, I traced the outlines of the strokes with my fingertips trying to catalogue the texture and movement in my mind.
I spent many days laying in the grass looking up into the sunlight through swaying oak leaves.
My mother’s voice awoke in my mind, scolding, ‘You’ll go blind staring at the sun like that!’
My scornful laugh and intensified staring was witnessed only by those oak leaves.
It’s a little late for me to worry about that isn’t it.
A creative voice I thoroughly admire reentered my awareness this weekend. His words bridged something in my mind and I knew I needed to change the name of my collection of stories. This new naming feels more right.
“The world is not my own, I’m just passing through” ~Tom Waits
I was unprepared and unprotected.
The intensely jumbled mess overpowered me as well as the electric fear coursing through me.
And so I slept.
In my dreams I saw myself climbing aboard a large vessel of sorts.
I began to travel fast and far with strange creatures.
Though I was scared of this new sensation and these odd beings, I was exhilarated too.
Scared to leave behind all I knew, all I lost, yet accepting this turn of fate, I told myself to wake up.
The first thing I noticed was the soft sweetness enveloping me like tufts of rabbit fur smelling of lavender.
But what I saw next befuddled and shocked me.