Saturday, January 7, 2012

Like Water by Stone

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“The pages, in the wind, flew, were fluffed and ruffled like water by stones into a tune.”
– Lynn Emanuel

As years end approached, I found myself kicking furiously at the metaphorical hands clasped around my ankles tormenting me like a whirlwind hell-bent against a lone leaf left on a skeletal tree limb.

Falling was not an option; stumbling in giddy enthusiasm as I escorted the year out was definitely a possibility. Of course, the days dragged and lagged one into another and I held my breath hoping the other shoe forgot to drop. *Friends rallied around exclaiming 2012 would be my year. “My year?” I snarled at the black screen in front of me, after discovering my computer had given me a virtual middle finger salute in the form of a ‘malicious virus’.

A lone leaf wafts down…

The following days would split the current of my emotions as if gravel skipped ashore and tumbled into gemstones forged of quiet repose and forgotten moments. Days made of quiet self-satisfied smiles learning new recipes and enjoying the scent of decadent aromas wafting up from the stove. Moments spent beside a pup as she grumbled and snorted in her sleep farting, only to wake up to my groans of protest and laughter; coupled by breathless days of gentle snowfall powdering bare branches and the grass in a linen sheet of cotton tufts. Waves of euphoria rose and hurtled against the shore of uneasy resolve, like a turbulent sea flowing into a rambling brook parting over river stones of promise.

I was going to attempt to write about a year of my life (which I found impossible to condense). A year not so easily dismissed once memory serves to remind me of the tranquility submerged between the waves of who I am. Lynn Emanuel wrote, “My spelling faltered under the spell of myself.” – I know that feeling and as long as I live a life filled with an aria of words, each year will be my year.

A rumpled leaf waves playfully through the windowpane, dancing to the tune of the winds cadence before disappearing…

*You can find Lynn Emanuel’s poem Itemhere in all its exquisite, curious beauty.
** To those well-meaning friends, thank you for reminding me of what’s important, even if I need a push in the right direction from time to time.

Picture can be found here.
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24 comments:

  1. Indigo - I truly enjoy your prose. I trust and pray 2012 will be a wonderful year for you.

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  2. Lynn Emanuel's poem is wonderful - I enjoyed reading it.
    Indigo, everything that you write has a special poetry all its own. I hope you'll write a lot more in 2012 and continue to share your gifts with us!

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  3. The spell of myself. Now that has me thinking. Spell good? Spell bad? No matter. I falter, and all that can falter with me. Will 2012 be my year? Ahhhh, you are right. Every year is MY year and all that I make of it or don't. Happy New Year Indigo !

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  4. I am happy you share your year(s) with us. I haven't found my year yet but I do know what it feels like to be the last leaf falling.

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  5. Pickles looks more mature and happier!

    I enjoyed Lynn's poem... and I think that every year is going to be the year... so I share that feeling with you and I will expect more wonderful writing from you..!

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  6. Indigo, wishing you and your family a Happy New Year!!
    I always look forward to seeing a post from you:)
    Sheri

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  7. I like the thread of the leaf playing through the post. Amy Hemple (or rather, Chuck Palahniuk via Amy) calls that "running horses." ;-)

    I also like that idea that every year is your year. That's the way it should be. Sorry again about the virus, but glad it's all fixed.

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  8. Every year is our year, it is all about the perspective.

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  9. I'm so happy to find you still here. I've always admired your writing. Tho I have been long delinquent, I am at least going to return to reading my friends aqain.
    Hope you are well and having a great start in this new year. xoxo

    Char
    (CharsToday.blogspot.com)

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  10. Indigo, your sweet pen is still at work here. I believe we are woven "in between" all the years we experience. I'm grateful for all of it!

    Sorry to hear beloved Pickles is getting old. It's hard for me to remember that animals age because they don't show obvious signs like humans. I took our cat to the vet and wrote on the application she was 7 years old. The vet's records showed she was almost 11...enjoy each day with your loyal friend.

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  11. Incredible writing.

    Simply....lovely.

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  12. a brave piece of prose Indigo...authentic- I can't wait to read your blog this year.

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  13. 2012 might really just be our year.

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  14. You have such a great way with words. As for tge computer virus, I have some advice on how to get rid of it without harming your files.

    Step one: Go to malwarebytes.org and download the free version. Once installed do a full scan. When it's over, it will have files that you need to select and tell it to delete. Afterward, restart the pc when prompted and repeat the scan.

    Step two: Download and install Ccleaner from piriform. Run a registry clean and a regular clean. Delete everyhing found. Do not backup registry. Just select no and delete what it finds.

    I hope that helps.

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  15. You truly paint with your words, Indigo. It's a gift. :)

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  16. Thank you all for your heartfelt comments. I truly do believe this year will be my year. (Hugs)Indigo

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  17. I always love your posts Indigo! You have such wonderful words. <3 <3 <3

    Here's to 2012. Let's hope it will be the best!

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  18. Your mastery of words continues. It is a rare gift to be able to paint a visual and emotional picture with words the way you do. I hope this is, indeed, your year, and I hope you continue to share it with us through your blog.

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  19. So lovely. My favorite line: Waves of euphoria rose and hurtled against the shore of uneasy resolve, like a turbulent sea flowing into a rambling brook parting over river stones of promise. (hugs)

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  20. Dearheart, thank you for your presence in this world, your searing honesty and your determination to live your life as best for *you.*
    And thank you for your ongoing encouragement. It means a great deal to me.

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  21. Beautiful verbal images, thank you.

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  22. Pickles farts? teehee! The rest of this piece was nothing but sheer beauty, written only as you can. I think you will write a beautiful book about that year. It would be lovely if this were the year, but the leaf will flutter and settle on the first page in its own time.

    Love your description of snow. We are expecting our first snow of the season tomorrow. It won't be much, it never is here, never stays on the ground for more than a few days, but it will be so special nevertheless. I will think of you and Pickles when I take Abby and Bonbon out to walk in it.

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  23. TOO MANY LINES in this post. And I could write and write glowingly about each line or pair of...

    Seems like you 'see' and 'hear' beauty in unordinary fashion, Indigo. Your descriptives are PICTURES rather than words and phrases.

    Oh! 2012 is "your Year?" What are your reasonable expectations, if any? (Because I also feel this is "YOUR year!"

    I'm glad to have caught you this time, friend!
    PEACE!

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  24. Loving little Pickles. Hope that you have a really great year, Indigo.

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Thank you for giving my silence a voice, my muse your words, and taking the time to discover my prose.