Where did the color go?
I too feel washed something other than clean, not rinsed and wrung either. Just a winter wan.
If I kick about my ankles, time is not spooled like silk. Rather it is turning around me as a cotton batt tornado.
Silent and the birds have stopped singing as if I were in the eye.
Luckily there is touch. And texture.
Running my fingers over a bit of bark or a gold-rimmed coffee cup heats the tips with sparks of blue, green, gold…
I lean towards the warmth and am pulled forward into the ticking minutes…
…and further down the wide if barren path…
…slow as breathing towards something resembling Spring.
I doubt it…
Promise…am not that interesting…:)
Heeheehee. I love trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle of who you are Amelia. You never cease to surprise me.
LOL…hippie days, flower power and a volkwagen bus. In a different time and a lifetime ago, I used to live about 20 miles away from the pipeline. One of those specks among the crowds watching the tournaments. Great memories though.
Now how can you say what you did in your previous comment, Amelia? You are just as poetic as I am! And now you have me very curious about what you were doing in the banzai pipeline…
Oooh Nancy, that is such a great idea! I love it!!! And thank you…
Out of Africa? Le grand sigh. And then a second one. And then a moment of silence in respect. 🙂
Jeanne, I never take for granted your amazingness. Thank you so much for mentioning rhythm. I give a lot of thought to the order of what photos I publish here, even it is basic, unavoidable after so many years of watching how Remi thinks of a story. I hope that doesn't sound pretentious! Eeee…!!!
FB. Hmmm. I actually do have an account that I cancelled, brought back to see something and now don't touch. But you tempt me mightily, you do…although in all honestly, I would rather talk to you face to face!
And I think that I put a Birdy song on my list for Music for Mango House! Her voice just goes right to my heart. I listened to "Skinny Love" over and over non-stop while writing this post.
Hoping that you are wrapped not in a cotton batt tornado but rather the buzz-buzz of your wonderful adventure in Saigon,
Gros Bisous,
h
You know I was never so interested in spring before I lived in Provence but oh my is it something to look forward to!
Wonderful Amelia, even I don't even know what I am talking about 100% when I get in such moods. I just put the ingredients in the blender and see what comes out. 🙂 If anything, this blog has been a huge step forward for me in that I let myself do that kind of writing from time to time without, hopefully, judging it too much. A big difference from writing for the French press where it all needs to flow like a logical river.
How I would love to see your pure white snow as far as the eye can see!!! Wow.
And yes, Birdy is a young artist with a lot of heart. It will be neat to see where she goes…
xo,
h
Yay! Thank you Lorrie, that is exactly what I was thinking about when I took them!!!