A Pull to the Page

The page has been pulling at my sleeves, 

with letters, words, sentences, but also with lines, 

circles, and doodles. It's a familiar feeling of wanting to draw something–

to sketch my dreams and the images that form,

from below the surface, yet as my cycle goes, 

I have moments of glee and moments of frustration, disappointment. 

It's good for me, though; good to be challenged in a new way; 

and when I surrender to the process, I feel something–

I see something speaking to me in a way that makes me want to know more.

**

Ink and watercolor pencils

I sat in the grass

#5

I sat in the grass,

felt the warmth

on my toes, when

an Angel presented

me with a porcelain

figurine–an image of herself.

She held her hand out, and said,

"Come, go. You are free."

**

When I finished writing this one, I felt that it was a gift, a small little gift from the Universe. It made me feel calm and at peace; and even now, as I type it out, and listen to the words, I am filled with that same sense of peace that I felt when I reached the last word.

Decluttering & Magnetic Poetry

I’ve been doing some decluttering. It’s never easy to let go of things, and I always think that I’m going to get rid of more than I actually do. I talked hubby into allowing me to bring one more shelf into the house and to buy one short cube shelf for the closet because I’ve just run out of space for all the clothes that I’ve accumulated, mostly pants and cute tops that I’ve found at the second hand stores. Everything is started to look a lot neater. There was a bag that has been laying around, stuffed with pages out of calendars that I wanted to save because they had great quotes or good books. I finally sorted through that bag, mostly old receipts that I don’t need and other pieces of paper that needed to go. 

It’s amazing how much stuff we actually accumulate in our lifetimes. I don’t want to be a hoarder; I don’t want to collect things that I forget about and lock away in boxes that I only open every now and then. 

I keep trying to consolidate and let go of more books that are packed away in the garage. I did let go of some. I donated a box of children books and a few other books and some other miscellaneous items. I had hubby bring three boxes inside, so that I could go through them and hopefully detach from some of the things inside and possibly donate some. I came across my tin of words from the magnetic poetry kits that I bought some time ago. We used to keep all the words–or almost all of them on the refrigerator and we’d take turns making up silly sentences or endearing ones too. When we moved, I took them all down and put them in their tin box, leaving them stored away in yet another box in the garage. 

I took the tin out and randomly chose a few words, tried to string them together. I decided that maybe I would do this every day and write down what I came up with. The first day, I stuck to the words that I picked; the second day, I added some prepositions; the third day, I did the same as the second, but didn’t feel that I needed to use all the words, especially since many of them would’t have been useful in that instance; on the fourth day, I felt like I was loosening up and added to the words because the words I chose, created an image in my mind and the result made me smile inside because it was silly. 

It’s been fun and zen-like, my morning meditation. I haven’t yet selected my words for this morning, but I think I will when I’m done writing.

#1

Only night must question truth.

This made me start thinking about nighttime and darkness and how we often find truth within the dark moments in life, how the dark illuminates and becomes light.

#2

faith–

born under the 

weight of the velvet

universe

#3

The present lingers on

like the warmest day.

#4

“Remember,” said the feline,

“the remedy is to recover.”

I swallowed curiosity and 

spit it back out.

A Rainy Day in February

Rain slaps down on the hoods of cars, while short Palm trees, in their brick enclosures, swing around–as though they are taking in a good scream from the wind. Other more delicate plants flail in their pots. I look out the window. 

Japanese lanterns spin around less violently, enclosed by the outside overhang, bringing my attention to those lanterns adorned with images of Japanese women in traditional Japanese robes; the other lanterns covered in flowers, black and red orchids. 

I look down at my bento box lunch, thinking how neat and tidy and lovely to have so many compartments, organized in such a way as to make the contents each have their own place–each component adding to the beauty of the whole.

Journal ~ Cold be Gone & Buddha Cat

Cold virus is lingering. In the last stages. Still coughing. 16 days. Too long. One week in, conjunctivitis (aka pink eye) in right eye, start treatment; pink eye in left eye, more treatment. Two days off work, plus one day of being sick the week before. Missed two of three night classes in a row. Worried. Thought of dropping, emailed the instructor several times. Me, being wishy-washy: one email, I'm telling him I'm dropping the class, missed too much; next email, once I've re-thought things over and got encouragement from hubby, I tell the teacher I don't want to drop, I'll stick it out only having one absence left. Still kept up with the reading, did the homework, emailed it in. Had already emailed one homework before I got really sick. He read all of my emails and responded with my last question to email my late homework. Other class is online, didn't miss any classes.

Writing is one of my loves and even so, for some reason, with certain classes I get nervous. It's like it brings up old insecurities from 20 years ago even thought I've proven to myself that I don't need to be worried. Worrying is in my nature. So it was helpful when I received my homework back and I was on track. I was beginning to doubt myself. It's amazing how powerful the mind is and how it can take you to places you shouldn't be, how it can take you to the land of insecurity and self-doubt in one breath. It's a lifelong journey and in some ways, it's not such a bad thing. It provides perspective and balance.

Haven't been able to do pleasure reading, but the reading for both of my classes is interesting. It will be nice to get back to the other books too. One in particular: Winter's Tale by Mark Helprin. I want to finish the book before I see the movie.

Buddha Cat

Friendly neighborhood cat

entertaining himself, 

rolling around on the ground

completely submissive–

No fear

Happy laughing cat

**

Cat on a rock surrounded by bushes

at Kaiser

staring ahead,

watching,

suddenly leaps

scurries in and out

what is he after?

I walk over to the bush,

see him covered in leaves,

all but his head. 

I try to get his attention

with a cluck cluck sound, 

he looks up, then away,

too busy for me.

An October Visit

This is a short piece that I wrote in a short story writing class I took a couple of years ago. I remember that this was the assignment where the teacher, inspired by one of my favorite cooking shows: Chopped, provided us with four mystery baskets to choose from. Each had a writing ingredient. I can't remember the exact four or so ingredients that were in the basket I chose. I do remember a mood, possibly set in October, but that's about it. The other elements came from an experience and I tried to convey that feeling.

Yesterday this quote spoke to me; I'm going to place it where I can see it every day:

"Inspiration exists, but it must find you working." 

–Pablo Picasso

October Visit

Amanda washed off her hands and placed the carved pumpkin in a brown sack and headed out to visit her Aunt Rose and Aunt Vivian at Bluestone Retirement Community. As she pulled out of the driveway, she looked into the sky: clouds hung like heavy gray sheets, hugging the dry mountain peaks.

She rolled the window down, prepared to be alone with her thoughts. “I hope Aunt Rose is feeling better today,” Amanda thought out loud. The highway wasn’t crowded this Sunday afternoon. She let her thoughts drift into the breeze, into fields of dry grass that appeared stiff and stuck in place. She could feel the pierce of time looming low. She exited off the highway, took a few more turns, and pulled to the back parking lot of the Bluestone. 

When she walked inside, the light was dim as though it had been washed out. Oldsters pushed their walkers around, some wheeled themselves in wheelchairs, while others had assistance; some sat in the lounge area watching the television with a mix of alert and vacant faces. Nurses walked briskly past the slow moving oldsters. Finally, Amanda pulled herself away when she didn’t see her aunts and went into the facility’s ice cream parlor where she thought they might be. It wasn’t very crowded. There were a few circular tables with seniors seated around eating their chosen desserts. 

Amanda walked over to where she saw her aunts and noticed that Aunt Rose was eating while Aunt Vivian was not and wore a scowl on her face. Amanda felt a chill when she realized this would be a difficult visit. 

“Hello dear,” said Aunt Rose. “Sit down.”

“Hello Aunt Rose. Hello Aunt Vivian.” Setting the sack down on one of the empty chairs, Amanda pulled the pumpkin out and set it on the table. “Look what I brought you!”

Aunt Vivian turned her head and glared at the smiling pumpkin. “Hmmpf,” she said. 

“Oh, Viv, don’t be such a grump,” said Aunt Rose. “Thank you, dear. It’s lovely. You’ll have to forgive your Aunt Vivian. She’s having a day.” Aunt Rose took the last bite of her ice cream and dabbed her mouth.

“I thought it would add some cheer to your room. I hope you like it. It reminds me of when we used to carve pumpkins at your house.”

“There have been many adjustments since we’ve come to live here, dear—and well, it’s not the same as living in your own home and taking care of yourself.”

“I can only imagine how difficult it must be, Aunt Rose.”

“Well, dear, I think the adjustment has been especially hard on your Aunt Vivian—“

“It’s not home,” cut in Aunt Vivian with a slight snarl. “I miss my things. My home. My furniture. My independence. Bah!” Aunt Vivian waved her hand as if to wave away the ice cream parlor and to wave away Amanda and everyone there. She sat in her wheelchair with an unmoving pride on her face, stubbornness etched into her eyes. It seemed she wore the permanent mark of a struggle.

Amanda looked into Aunt Rose’s eyes and was comforted by the kind twinkle looking back into hers. She looked to Aunt Vivian and was only met with a cold icy feeling looking back. “I’m sorry that you feel so bad, Aunt Vivian. It must be difficult.” Amanda shuffled in her chair uncomfortably, trying to remain positive.

“It is, Amanda dear. I’m sorry to be so cold to you. It’s not you. Being old, losing your eyesight and hearing. These things are never easy to accept on top of losing your home—or rather not having the ability to stay in your home.”

“There, there, Viv, see I know you’ve got it in you to turn your scowl to a softer shade,” said Aunt Rose.

“I can’t control my moods, Rose. I’m not able to keep as upbeat as you. I don’t know why. I’m happy with the life I’ve lived. It’s just that when—“

“Aunt Vivian, remember when we all used to carve pumpkins…you always made the best one, with intricate details around the hexagonal eyes. It was as if your pumpkins would come to life and start speaking.”

Aunt Vivian’s eyes began to soften even more; she unfolded her hands and reached for the pumpkin that Amanda brought. Amanda pushed it over closer to her. “Yes, I do remember…my, my, it seems like so long ago. This is a nice pumpkin you’ve carved. Hearts for eyes and a four-leaf clover for the nose, how clever; and the mouth, why, it reminds me of a silly hill Billy with a missing tooth. Ha!” 

“Vivian, my goodness gracious, what has gotten into you.” Amanda and Aunt Rose look at each other and then they all start laughing. “Amanda, dear, would you like a scoop of ice cream, and since you’re so spunky all of a sudden, Vivian, maybe you’d like a scoop too?”

Amanda let out a quiet sigh of relief at Aunt Vivian’s change of mood. She had come to expect these ups and downs from Aunt Vivian. The two sisters began chit chatting, while Amanda’s thoughts were on the other topic she wanted to bring up, but had not. She didn’t want to spoil the mood. Maybe next time she would feel up to it.

“Dear…dear?, Amanda, dear…”

White Egret

White egret high in the twilight sky.

Wings wave against the brisk air.

With each wave of those great wings,

the cold chill inside yields, 

fills me with warmth. I keep my gaze 

on the twilight sky and this graceful creature,

as they fade into the distance.