July is now almost over. I know, I don’t have to tell you that. You already know.
Once again, it seems that time is moving on while I stand still. And yet, I’ve been running around the city like crazy, seeing apartments and going to work and, thankfully, spending some time with friends.
And as usual, what I haven’t been doing is writing. It’s been at least two weeks since I got much writing of any sort done. Mostly, it’s my fault, as I allow myself to be distracted by other things in life, instead of setting time aside to get writing done. Mostly, people understand and say things like “I would probably do the same thing if I was trying to find a place to live.” Of course, that doesn’t help me be more productive, or make me feel better about neglecting my life’s purpose.
Do you ever question the one thing you usually are sure you were meant to do, and then wonder why you exist at all if it is not, in fact, your purpose?
Sometimes I spend an entire day feeling as if everyone is judging me, and always unfairly…
Daydreaming. Sun and water. Immersed. Soft grass, clover, flowers. Toes. Entwined. Rain and hope. Dancing, on the subway. Song. Bursting. Tears and cheeks. Pear juice, dripping. Jewel garden. Red dress. Nighttime chanting. Bright forms, flames, dancing.
Waves of wind and sadness. Constant creation. Follow. Visions. Soul, taking flight through stars. Nothing. A face. An eye. A hand. Reaching. Touch. Energy, lightning. Scent of roses. Trace of satin. Lock of hair, lying on the ground. A smile, from nowhere.
A voice. Eyes closed. Engulfing. And then, a flash –
“Where does the end of the sea begin? Or, indeed, what are we saying when we say sea? Do we mean the immense monster capable of devouring absolutely anything, or the wave foaming around our feet? The water you can hold in a cupped hand, or the abyss that none can see? Do we say everything with a single word, or with a single word do we conceal everything? I am here, a stone’s throw from the sea, and I cannot even understand where it is. The sea. The sea.”
The plot is a little bit odd. The writing is wonderful.
Dutch Pinup Girl that was born in the wrong time. Lover of fifties and fourties vintage and reproduction clothing, with a slight dress addiction. Taking on the world with petticoats, red lipstick and pretty dresses.