Yumminess

June 18, 2008

I’m holding my hugs for a second longer looking at bewildered eyes as the embrace loosens.  My smile comes quickly when approaching a stranger the beauty of changed expression alight on their face.  I scan for bright flowers while walking the neighborhood, look at that purple, orange or pink!  I’ve noticed that this thing called life is at once immense and at times intmate enough to feel the light breeze upon my eyelashes or hear the soft coo of a babe resting in arms.  Marvel.

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You are what I am sensing within myself at this moment and I am that to you as we shadow dance in mirrored reflection.  I want to help and know that the only way is to be a better light by examining my own wiring.  My hurdles are intertwined with yours though our roles may play out differently.  We are both, together, moving towards understanding but these words I use are only pointers towards something I find difficult to describe.  Youmeness.  Yumminess.

Smoked in

June 14, 2008

Smoke from the North Carolina fires have ridden a northerly wind and socked in Virginia Beach and the surrounding areas with haze and bringing choked gasps.  I feel fairly tolerant of most airborn irritants but these acrid fumes penetrate all of my natural defenses.  So a warm, clear June day will need to be spent indoors until the wind changes direction.  Not a bad day to be confined to the library as a worker bee though it would be nicer if the HVAC system sucked less of the smoke into the building.

 

Skating along

June 7, 2008

It’s been awhile since I’ve made my way onto these pages.  I am reverting back to sponge, taking in the information around me and letting it ooze out through my pores.  Alas that expiration rarely finds itself being translated into written words and I continue the intake unabetted.  When I’ve convinced myself that now, this moment, is the time to sit down and write, I am overcome with everything else that I could potentially be doing.  While at home I open up the journaling notebook and remember that the dirty dishes are sitting in the sink and gleefully get up to attend to suds and scrubbing.  I open up Word and begin a few sentences and it occurs to me that the laundry still needs to be sorted and I bound up from the desk chair to search out the disheveled garments.  I am both compelled to write and repelled by my own yearnings to step away from the creative flow. A man and mind divided.

I just remembered that the temperatures are in the nineties today and I have yet to water the garden…I’ll be right back…*Runs to the freedom away from the words*

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One of the thankful recipients of the water.