A Tactile Life

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Belonging

There are places where I have never been that I belong and places I frequent from which I could not feel more disconnected. Home is carried in my heart through the memories of people and how they fit into a place, filled it up with love, or left it more colorful. It grounds me and strengthens me and... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Stories I tell II

The story I have told the world is just as real as the one I tell myself, more so, because it is backed up with actions and history. This is what frightens me the most. What if I can never find the right words? What if the colors on the pallet in my head are too vivid to actually mix? What if the... Sign in to see full entry.

Inner Peace

What if I can carry the peace with me? The rain and wind make me courageous, and I wish more than anything to be courageous. I wish to be strong enough to be vulnerable and to release the need for the good opinion of others. What would I be if I could let go of the need to please? In truth, I can't... Sign in to see full entry.

The electricity in the storm amplifies the screaming. Is it worth it to be brilliant at 46? is it even possible? Should I just get tummy tuck instead? What am I afraid of? Does it really scare me at all? Can I exist within the energy of the storm? Will it frighten the hell out of everyone I love and... Sign in to see full entry.

The Story I Tell

The Story I tell the world is all mixed up in pretense and exaggerated importance, maniacally bounced around in an aging head too full to remember to water plants much less meditate. Complicated by the story of others, horrors and romance, truth and fiction. Busy reconciling the horror of genocide... Sign in to see full entry.

Tempest - The Storm Within

Only in the storms can I hear the screams. The voice I call "fringe element" is not comfortable with straight lines, cubes, and primary colors. It prefers squiggles, ellipses, and hue. It is not afraid to point out the inconsistencies in my life, the pretense and fraud. It wants to feel. It looks at... Sign in to see full entry.

Tempest continued

I know that when Nature improvises she teaches me to breathe. The storm holds no danger for me, the rain only comfort. I am alone with the Universe, my preferred state. "I am here" says my soul waiting, patient and knowing. allowing me to hesitate, even if my story calls for action. Sooner than... Sign in to see full entry.

Tempest

The sun is intense. The air is thick. I can feel the absence of breeze in my soul. My breath begins to even after the long climb. The sky beats blue, white, and yellow overhead. Off to the west, at the horizon, a storm is evolving. Lightning crackles from behind the gray. I do not want to take... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Running With Scissors.

Perception. Talent. Opinion. Whose? I will run with scissors if I choose. I will push the boundaries of thought and perception. Perhaps only my own, but limits will be snapped. If I dream in color, then I will paint and write in color. Mixed with tears on a pallet of laughter. Nothing in the rule... Sign in to see full entry.

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