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Archive for February, 2008

memoir meme

i was tagged by miss demure restraint for this meme. it’s a six-word memoir, inspired by hemingway, who once bet ten dollars that he could sum up his life in six words. he came up with — for sale: baby shoes, never worn.

here are the meme rules:
1. write your own six-word memoir.
2. post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
3. link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.
4. tag five more blogs with links.
5. and don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

my six-word memoir:

j04226152.jpg    mountain girl lost in the sun

perhaps i should also add…who doesn’t get technology, which means i have no idea how to link this to miss demure restraint and the original post blog (weboflove). where’s a teenager when you need one…………………………………

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lunar eclipse

i sat outside in a chair and watched the lunar eclipse from my side yard. the view was framed by trees and my neighborhood was uncharacteristically quiet, so it almost felt like i was outside in a wispy forest. clouds came and covered the evolution of the eclipse during parts of it but i was fortunate enough to witness half of the cycle, in particular the fullness of the eclipse. i saw a faded red moon, with all its valleys and mountains visible, accompanied by two or three stars/planets (i don’t know which and it doesn’t matter). i watched the moon for a time until earthly clouds flowed over it, blocking my view. two of my cats sat beside me, no doubt wondering what i was doing outside at night, sitting in a chair, watching the sky. i am coveting an eclipse, i said. can we sit on your lap? can we hide underneath the chair? they said. an animal’s life is so simple. my cats don’t understand that this type of lunar eclipse will not happen again until 2010. maybe they won’t be here. maybe i won’t be here. who knows.

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in my office

a windy, cloudy monday and i sit in my office typing away, listening to mindy smith on my cd player. somewhere i believe there is a singer inside me, just waiting to be coaxed out her froggy closet. there’s also a writer, photographer, and artist waiting in the wings for their chance at life beyond these four walls. a psychic once told me a very long time ago that men would slow me down but fear would stop me if i let it…and i let it. i allowed this overwhelming fear i carry with me every second of every minute of every day strangle me, but not to the death, just to death row. now at middle age i want to open the secret door in the armoire and find my way through the swirling world that i call me. i have learned many things on my journey and now i’m finding that all these insights are leading right back to me. i have always had the strength and i have always known the answers – i just did not believe it. strange how that goes……

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she’s gone

when she was two weeks old, i saved her life. pushed away by her siblings because she was too weak to fight for mama’s food, i fed her. and even though she had a defective heart, she grew into a beautiful kitten who was often too weak to dash madly about the house like her brothers and sisters. i felt sorry for her as she silently watched them play, so i invented a game for her that we could play together. it was called ‘sweeping the sweetie.’ she would attack the broom and then i would sweep her body with it, tickling her face and her belly. she thought this was the greatest game.

sweetie died on tuesday. her heart and lungs gave out. she was almost six years old, far older than the veterinarian, who diagnosed her bad heart, said she would live to. always a very sensitive cat, she often hid in the bushes to shield herself from the world. i understood that, and i never tried to coax her from her safety. i would bring her food and water to her chosen den until she was ready once again to face life outside her fortress.

our ‘sweeping the sweetie’ game is now over forever. 

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far away

so quiet this day. so quiet the day before. i am not used to this anymore. i love the quiet. like a sip of cool mountain water on a hot day, silence nourishes the person i am. i cannot live without it. that is, no doubt, why i grow more tired of breathing as the days go by. the loudness, the busyness of people who live aggressively hurts my life, my spirit, my everything. i feel like an alien from another planet because i do not understand the ways of the human. just do not understand the need to rush, to invade, to kill, to live like no one else matters, save the self. perhaps i only speak from middle age. perhaps these are just the words of a woman who is looking backwards to a world that seemed so much friendlier and quieter. i only know that i do not belong in this time. not as i am now. not where i am now.

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up the mountain

the day i was born i saw a mountain, a daunting aspect of nature but no more formidable than my own spirit. i can climb this mountain, i said. i can make my way to the top and from there i can see all things, know all things, do all things. no one told me that there would be blizzards, avalanches, wild animals, rolling boulders, toppling trees, deep uncrossable fissures. no one told me there would also be the soothing sound of silence, the soft swish of a bird flying overhead, the intense vibrancy of a sunset, the welcoming embrace of a forest, the chance sighting of a deer and its fawn, the cool fresh taste of mountain water. i have yet to stand on the top of my mountain. i am still climbing my way through beauty and tragedy on a path yet to be forged. i am content that no one told me what i might find on the way up the mountain. i might have stayed in the valley and waited for my life to begin.

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peace and quiet

the light of the sun is filtering through the trees outside my window. right now it is very peaceful and i cherish it. peace and quiet are not easy to come by in this urban neighborhood. i bleed from the constant loudness of this world in which i now live. i long for my mountain childhood, so far, far away. i miss peace and quiet, for in peace and quiet i can hear my spirit; i can think, read, daydream, nap, just be.

i don’t know who this person is anymore. my face is battleworn and my heart wanders off its beaten path. there are days when i just want to hide and never be found…until serenity is declared the way of life for all humans.

a girl can dream, can’t she?

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