Oven mits cover her small hands as she brings the her pie. She finds her number in the line of other pies. Careful to set it perfectly
Friday, January 13, 2023
Saturday, July 14, 2012
solemn walk
The empty lined asphalt rolled on for miles ahead of her, vague and immeasurable. The heat fogged what little memories she had of the road slowly fading behind. With each step she slowed, squinting to grab a glimpse of anything on the horizon. Her hands cupped her eyes trying to extinguish the heat and sun. Long moments passed, her stoic form still on the black sea. A flick of a glimpse behind not daring to turn. A moment reflection squashed before her eyes blinked away the dripping sweat. Slumped shoulders pushed her on, desperate for end to be known.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Soft as from a life once lived
Crumpled, her withered bones show the wear of arthritis. Each stitch the strips of fabric become art. The open window kisses her wrinkled cheeks and the smile that dances in her eyes as she remembers her youth for the owners of the small hands working beside her. With each pause of leading and each stitch she builds her story. The love of life that was built up from the moment their lives touched. The years of playful uncertainty that made up their dance of love. Stories of their first home, children and their adventures. With each story the panels of a past life pulled together the quilt of fabric. Hours of work with much vigor sees the end of the sun as the final stitch is pulled. The tired but hardworking hands slowly gather the blanket close before making the short walk to her room. The door sat wide open as it had for years now. The room was clean, with furniture from her previous life and the bed of their later years of life together. The light of the setting sun pulled its way through the window and kissed the empty bed. Slowly she crossed the floor and floated down to rest her feet. Small smooth movements, on her side she laid facing the window her arm wrapped tightly across the new quilt. A watery eye and a quirk of a smile as her free hand danced across the strips of fabric from old men's shirts. Her eyes fluttered shut and replayed the stories told that day, drifting off to a world that had once been.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Humor in Tragedy
The small squeaks start at dawn.
A flutter of a dance fills the morning as one life ends to sustain another
Both great tragedy and great liberty
The humor and sadness of this delicate nature
A flutter of a dance fills the morning as one life ends to sustain another
Both great tragedy and great liberty
The humor and sadness of this delicate nature
Saturday, February 25, 2012
the dance of the unwavering
Eyes shut to breath
Deep, in and out
Whistles of the water's dance swim around
The wind brushes soft kisses
All in a moment, home
(can you tell I miss the beach?)
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Lost and Alone
A mind lost now broken at reality
The once strong and straight, sit hunched and crippled
Tears of a sorrow just realized cover the once young face
Brows furrowed at the tear streaked face in the mirror
Mouth opening to comfort, thoughts of hot days
Lost in a world long passed, telling stories of a life unknowingly already passed
Audience capture and unable to leave from it's frame
Brows furrow at the face in the mirror
Lips moving in unison.
Arthritic hands reach to touch a wrinkled face
A mind lost now broken at reality
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Enough is enough
Legs cramp along side a sore butt
Bones ache in the effort to break free
Piles of clothes cover the floor
The windows slowly piled over
No sounds in the dark room
No ears to hear cries for help
Trying to claw to freedom, buried
With each handful removed, ten more seem to take their place
With no excape, arms pinned with the ever growing pile
Each breath gets smaller, shorter till the last gasp fades into silence
Sponsored by:
Saturday, January 21, 2012
A tear streaked face
Feet race across the slipping and scattering rocks
Falling is not an option; failing is unacceptable
The cold is blistering to the cheek
The wind is chilling to the bone
Miles ago the trail of blood had started
Cracking branches and a taunting laugh not far behind
A small head twitch to hear, eyes wide, face falling at the sight of the hooded figure too near
With a small shake: teeth clenched, eyes bore fire despite shaking hands
With a turn and planted feet, fists clenched trying to hide tremors and deep breaths fought back burning eyes
All that was left was to fight
Photos taken by: Rachel Abi Photography
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Mercy rains
With each creaking footstep he finds his way; closer and closer to freedom. Ahead there is light, just out of reach. How to get that extra step? Quite tones trick his, anxious to get away he breaks away. His feet pound the old wood floors; with each thump his terror wells. "Is that me? Are they close behind?" Thoughts rattle through as he shakes them away. No effort left he pulls his last energy to run a little further with a shout for mercy
Saturday, January 7, 2012
This is not Neverland
My sister is getting married today.
All the last minute scrambles and questioning things that cannot be changed will end in a few short hours. My sister will be married. She will forever live with a man, her husband. Though I have been married for a few years this is still odd to say. We lived all our lives together, sharing a room from my birth till just past my 18th birthday where we went to college together and lived in a one bedroom apart...
For years we never experienced much without the other present. Now we grow up... grow apart... grow older...
This is not Neverland.
All the last minute scrambles and questioning things that cannot be changed will end in a few short hours. My sister will be married. She will forever live with a man, her husband. Though I have been married for a few years this is still odd to say. We lived all our lives together, sharing a room from my birth till just past my 18th birthday where we went to college together and lived in a one bedroom apart...
For years we never experienced much without the other present. Now we grow up... grow apart... grow older...
This is not Neverland.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Enveloped
Thick twin holds his arms and legs to the chair. The musk of days without a shower are lost on him. The loneliness and despair of his captivity makes no difference; all that matters is more. He must have more, the only control in his life is the button in his hand, with each click it's never enough. Falling further into the darkness with no regard. . .
'click' 'click' click'. . .
Saturday, December 3, 2011
It is finished
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Accepting Mediocrity
Second weekend of the month... still going strong with NaNoWriMo. I'm ahead of schedule and that's how I like it. I can't believe Thanksgiving is almost here. Do you have any special family plans/traditions? My family traditions generally consist of lots and lots of food... more that just merely a gluttonous amount. This year I am in charge of pies. I'm pretty excited because dessert is my favorite part.
Though the task of writing a novel seems overwhelming I would encourage you to try next year (and yes, if you don't do it with others then most the time you won't do it). Though you need to know going into it: your novel will suck the first go round. No matter how much you read or write other things: a first ever novelist in their first draft always sucks. Just a matter of how badly it will suck. It could be only a little or it could be like mine: totally horrible. I'm not discouraged: only place is to go up from here! (Look at the greats... or in the case the example that comes to mind is Jane Austen, her first novel wasn't great and took years of tweaking and she still never wanted to publish that. Her family did just after her death if I recall properly.) Well, I'll leave you with these short remarks so you may return to your fun Saturday afternoon activities.
Ps. I promise I'll go back to the regular scheduled writing first thing December.
Though the task of writing a novel seems overwhelming I would encourage you to try next year (and yes, if you don't do it with others then most the time you won't do it). Though you need to know going into it: your novel will suck the first go round. No matter how much you read or write other things: a first ever novelist in their first draft always sucks. Just a matter of how badly it will suck. It could be only a little or it could be like mine: totally horrible. I'm not discouraged: only place is to go up from here! (Look at the greats... or in the case the example that comes to mind is Jane Austen, her first novel wasn't great and took years of tweaking and she still never wanted to publish that. Her family did just after her death if I recall properly.) Well, I'll leave you with these short remarks so you may return to your fun Saturday afternoon activities.
Ps. I promise I'll go back to the regular scheduled writing first thing December.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Open book, open notes
Unlike a lot of my posts... or pretty much all of my posts so far this post is going to be about me. In an almost diary sense. It is November and that means a lot of things, but what it means for this post?
I am doing NaNoWriMo. For all you sane people who don't know what I am talking about it is National Novel Writing Month. This means: it is an organization that links LOTS of people who take on the organizations challenge: Writing a 50,000 word essay in 30 days. My husband and I are taking on the challenge this year. Why? Why would I do this to myself? Because I love to write, not as much as I love being a wedding photographer but a deep love all the same.
Long ago I started a novel that I loved but never finished. I hope to one day finish it but it will be difficult. I am a completely different person now. Lots of changes happened from the start of that book to now but the two most important is that I came to a realization. I had been raised in church all my life and saw it for what I thought it was: a group of people who said one thing and acted a complete other way. To be honest, that really can be the truth in "Church" as we know it. Church isn't supposed to be a building or a business but it is often how it is treated. Any way... I could go off on a long tangent there if I didn't stop myself. But I came to a realization that though the way people acted wasn't something I wanted at all but I did want what they said to be true. I wanted to believe that there was a God, that he cared. That there was reason and rhyme to life. I wished that this ultimate love and care from this great being who took the time to create the world.
Long story short, I decided to see for myself. I had, being raised by a pastor, had always "read" the bible but I decided then and there that I would study the bible. I remember being told about a scripture that if you seek after God you'll find him (Deuteronomy 4:29, ie old testament: Jewish people promise), so I figured I'd seek and see if the bible was true. Not sure if that verse was pulled out of context/ie doesn't mean what it sounds like when you just read the one verse or not but I found. Or I guess more accurately God allowed me to see.
By the time that I understood, it wasn't a understanding the words... I am not sure how to state it really. I am not a "feel-y" type of person, though it may seem that way with some of my writing, but it took a while to click. I understood it all but I didn't really know how to accept it is I guess the best way to put it.
But point being because of my realization of a true and loving God and the fact that I got married I have changed a lot. I mean we all change over time but I really changed.
Changed from a person who would be mortified to even be writing this in a diary that I litterally would have hid weight down in the back of a toilet tank to a person who is laying this all out for... everyone.
Because of this change, I am starting over. A whole knew concept... and you don't get to know that, at least not yet. : D
I am doing NaNoWriMo. For all you sane people who don't know what I am talking about it is National Novel Writing Month. This means: it is an organization that links LOTS of people who take on the organizations challenge: Writing a 50,000 word essay in 30 days. My husband and I are taking on the challenge this year. Why? Why would I do this to myself? Because I love to write, not as much as I love being a wedding photographer but a deep love all the same.
Long ago I started a novel that I loved but never finished. I hope to one day finish it but it will be difficult. I am a completely different person now. Lots of changes happened from the start of that book to now but the two most important is that I came to a realization. I had been raised in church all my life and saw it for what I thought it was: a group of people who said one thing and acted a complete other way. To be honest, that really can be the truth in "Church" as we know it. Church isn't supposed to be a building or a business but it is often how it is treated. Any way... I could go off on a long tangent there if I didn't stop myself. But I came to a realization that though the way people acted wasn't something I wanted at all but I did want what they said to be true. I wanted to believe that there was a God, that he cared. That there was reason and rhyme to life. I wished that this ultimate love and care from this great being who took the time to create the world.
Long story short, I decided to see for myself. I had, being raised by a pastor, had always "read" the bible but I decided then and there that I would study the bible. I remember being told about a scripture that if you seek after God you'll find him (Deuteronomy 4:29, ie old testament: Jewish people promise), so I figured I'd seek and see if the bible was true. Not sure if that verse was pulled out of context/ie doesn't mean what it sounds like when you just read the one verse or not but I found. Or I guess more accurately God allowed me to see.
By the time that I understood, it wasn't a understanding the words... I am not sure how to state it really. I am not a "feel-y" type of person, though it may seem that way with some of my writing, but it took a while to click. I understood it all but I didn't really know how to accept it is I guess the best way to put it.
But point being because of my realization of a true and loving God and the fact that I got married I have changed a lot. I mean we all change over time but I really changed.
Changed from a person who would be mortified to even be writing this in a diary that I litterally would have hid weight down in the back of a toilet tank to a person who is laying this all out for... everyone.
Because of this change, I am starting over. A whole knew concept... and you don't get to know that, at least not yet. : D
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Sea breeze
It was a bright and clear day. One like most the rest of summer, different but only to her. Plopping down she digs her feet into the sand past the heat of the first few layers. Her own hands seem foreign as they hold tight around her. But nothing can cover the isolation. Pulling her head high, she closes her eyes pulls in the breeze as it washes over her. Alone but strong, she takes another deep breath. With each deep breath a calm fills her, not stopping what is to come but she can breath. Angst no longer stifles her lungs. She pushes herself to stand and slowly makes the walk down the beach. One lone set of footsteps are in her wake, as she slowly makes her way back down the beach. One hand roams free from paced swing, gently landing on the seemingly unwanted guest. Looking down, smirking to herself. Her footsteps won't be alone for long.
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