Random Rants, tutto e niente

Crashing My Morning Mediation

What activities do you lose yourself in?

In the days of yore, my two favorite morning activities (after coffee of course) were bike riding and writing. Each offered a safe space where the passing of time seemed to disappear. The rhythmic pace of the peddling and the quiet tap of the keyboard were all I needed to reach a zen-like state. For many years, they were the flip sides of my morning meditation routine.

I can still lose hours writing (although “lose” seems like the wrong word because it’s wonderful to be in that zone), but my biking experience has changed.

Two years ago, I crashed. And now, among other things, I’m full of titanium.

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I still bike, but I’ve lost that ability to get lost in the moment. Instead, I’m a bit obsessed with scrutinizing every bump. And holding my breath. And bracing for possible impact. I feel trapped in that last second before the world comes crashing down.

(It’s remarkably similar to how I feel about the world in general. We’ve clearly gotten stuck in the worst timeline. Reagan’s repulsive Morning in America campaign escalated the Doomsday clock and we’re hurtling towards the end. The courts won’t save us. VOTE BLUE.)

But, I digress …

I feel trapped but I’m not. I keep moving. I remind myself to feel the rhythm when I peddle. Avoid the obstacles, but also notice all the beauty around me. And to breathe.

I’m hopeful that someday soon, I’ll once again be able to lose myself in the moment.   

Haiku & Other Poetry, History, tutto e niente

Friendship as a Metaphor

Not the time or place

Friendship as a metaphor

A true love denied

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“Sappho and Erinna in a Garden at Mytilene,” was painted by Simeon Solomon. As a gay Jewish artist living in Victorian England, his work was almost lost to history.  Solomon, who was associated with the 19th century Pre-Raphaelite movement, had his career cut short when he was arrested twice for same-sex liaisons with men (in 1873 and 1874), at the apogee of his fame, and it tragically changed the course of his life.

After his prosecutions he no longer exhibited, although it was still collected by a select few. In 1884, he was admitted to the workhouse where he continued to produce work, but his life and talent were blighted by alcoholism. Twenty years later in 1905, he died from complications brought on by his alcoholism. He was buried at the Jewish Cemetery in Willesden.

Thanks to Linda Hill’s JusJotJan challenge for the inspiration to share this piece of history.

LOVE IS LOVE!

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

Someday I’ll Get There

“Someday I’ll get there.” No one could hear her, but she screamed the words. Trying to drown out the cynical voice in her head.

But that voice always echoed louder: “You’re making a fool of yourself. Just stop. Stop painting. Stop running. Just stop.”

She knew that voice was right. Everyone was gone. Not hiding out in Atlanta. Not waiting for her. Gone. All of them.  

Still … she almost had captured his essence. She just needed to finish before she forgot his face. A few more strokes. That’s all. She couldn’t stop. Not now.  

“Someday I’ll get there.”

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This 99 word bit of optimistic delusion was inspired by Rochelle’s Friday Fictioners Challenge (photo credit to her as well) with a cynical boost from Fandango’s FOWC and a great opening line from Putting My Feet in the Dirt.

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

after now

The view looked like some kind of soulless painting. Beautiful but no signs of life. She used to know the names for artistic stuff like that. Photorealistic, maybe? Hell. It was all apocalyptic now. Unexpectedly, tears blurred her vision. She thought her grief had run its course but seeing those empty chairs. So expectant. So normal. Just waiting for someone with a cup of coffee or a glass of wine.

Closing her eyes, she shut down those thoughts. She was rooftop for recon. Not useless nostalgia. Before was done. It’s after now.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Thanks for the inspiration. Visit Rochelle’s Friday Fictioner for details about joining in the fun. Plus while you’re there, you can read lots of wonderful stories.

Random Rants, tutto e niente

The Head Beside Me

I’ve been taking a sculpture class (read more about that at Great Cheeks! ) and before the world collapsed and it got canceled I managed to get my first piece fired. I brought it home and on Friday I “bronzed” it (using acrylic paints ) as part of our first pandemic-sponsored-at-home-art-day.

Behold it in all its glory as it sits beside me.

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And stares.  

And stares some more.

He never blinks. Always he stares.

And that is not at all unnerving ….

Really. Seriously it’s not at all.

But … if he starts talking …

Thanks to Linda’s SoCS challenge for giving me an excuse to write about what’s beside me!