April 24, 2015badfish

8 WAYS TO WRITE LETTERS HOME

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Writing 101 Day 14, First Word & in a letter: Dawn

Dawn:

You’re a rusty dagger in the heart of this horizon. One white cloud—graceful and elegant—always shadows scenes like this. Today, a lone cumulus lays its somber consort on the tall grass, the way Picasso paints reclining nudes. Or Van Gogh…skies. Turns out, Van Gogh’s skies are closer to reality than what we see with our eyes. The sky is a swirling mass of living matter, constantly changing forms: liquid, solid, vapor. Our eyes see little. Certainly not reality. Nor a parallel universe where your heart rides a Harley, and dangerous things—like love and trust and honesty—abound.

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Here’s another truth we could never imagine from the heavens: Saturn is not our only planet with rings. And why is it so damn hard to change the way we feel? What are the rings made of? What binds a ring to one body, yet not another? You cannot believe anyone, but now, some people say Titan, a moon circling Uranus, has lakes and rivers and rain. But no water. An atmospheric soup of deadly gases. You say, “Trust me.” And yet, you trust no one. There will always be another lover waiting just around the corner. Dark matter holds everything together, black holes thrive.

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You believe there is no rain on Titan. You believe there is no hare with amber eyes. You believe the stars are wrong in this picture. Sometimes, you cannot imagine what your god is thinking. At times like this, we look at each other, you and I. We see only the hilt of daggers. We see people wishing they could walk backward to September. We both imagine swallowing someone else’s pride.

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Maybe we are the kind of people who imagine many things. We both imagine sipping high tea in a garden on the island of Loss and Faith. But we listen to A Symphony of Disappearing Beers. Call it wishful thinking. Or, call it karma, destiny, kismet. But we both know this unnatural selection is an allegory for heavy air. Heavy air, turns out, rises from the serrated horizon and veils the sunrise in a mist of vagaries we may never comprehend. We may never quite acquire the skills required to deal with dangerous things. We should have known.

Yours, truly.

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Find other Photo Rehab photos here:  Photo Rehab

45 comments

  3. You leave me speechless. That’s a hard thing to do, as you can well imagine. I find this to be one of the most exquisite, thought provoking, mind blowing, ego shattering works of prose. Thoughts escape me as I become awash in the word woven, silky touch that flows and eddies around me as I read, like tides rushing in, allowing a momentary taste of something sweet and tender, then recedes beyond my reach, leaving me wondering if, indeed, it was real at all.

    A splendid post, my friend! Photo 2, entrancing. Where is it? I want to go live there, in the picture. The palm trees, even in silhouette are elegant beings, against a fiery backdrop. A mountain? volcano? the sun, larger than life, in the last moments before it supernova’s out? Photo 4, stands as if a Stonehenge, creates an illusion that mists will come and swallow it up. And the last photo, a sanctuary, I can see. Looking out from within. Serene in the silence, as if a place of worship. I see the Buddha statue looking out, for who can tell that it also looks in at us, as we stand, stilling our mind, and becoming one with All That Is.

    The words of a song come to mind:

    “Be not so nervous, be not so frail
    Someone watches you
    You will not fail…

    Be not so nervous
    Be not so frail
    Be not so nervous
    Be not so frail

    Be not so sorry for what you’ve done
    You must forget the now
    It’s done

    When you wake up
    You’ll find that you can run
    Be not so sorry for what you’ve done
    Be not so sorry for what you’ve done

    Be not so fearful,
    Be not so pale
    Someone watches you
    you will not leave the rails

    Be not so fearful
    be not so pale
    Be not so fearful
    Be not so pale…”

    Thank you for the experience!

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    • I love that it seems that you actually “get” what I write most of the time. Even something as esoteric (poetic oriented?) as this thing. Since it is so odd, strange, metaphoric, I’d almost consider believing this is more a poem, not a “letter” to the crack of Dawn, for pete’s sake! Who writes letters to Time-of-Day? It thrills me that the words wash over you. Of all these photos, I like the first one best. The second one is Gunung Agung, an active volcano in Bali, very spiritual, very powerful. That is the view from my house last visit. The last photo (yeah, a sanctuary…and one of the reasons I am still here) is my master bedroom, actually, turned into my home office, and my hermit crab’s [Duncan] territory. Buddha abounds.

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      • When you write, what part of you do believe speaks? I think that (for me) some inner, more knowing part of me writes, and as well, reads. So an inner aspect composes (a poem, an ode) and the inner aspect – each part of All That Is, understands. It is why sometimes even as it might seem over our heads, it is the part of us which reside in that ‘over head’ compartment, which receives, and understands. That filters down to the us which emerges into conscious thinking, and we get the translation.

        What did you think of the song lyrics? If you would like to hear it, I’ll post it for you on my site. It actually is a part of my The 42 🙂

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        • I’m tracking everything you said. Right arm, or whatever that saying is. It’s like that woman artist who channels her painting (but not yet her writing). I meant to say something about those lyrics, forgot—this is the me outside the writing. I was trying to imagine what the spooky part of you was seeing, or saying. I would love to hear the music.

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          • Oh cool!!!! @ wanting to hear the song.
            It’s possible that it will be included as a youtube from the show in which I heard it.
            Just close your eyes and listen if the visuals are distracting. 🙂

            I think I explained that the Spooky part was experiencing, as opposed to seeing, like the words were in cinemascope… the saying part of Spooky is, well, Spooky Speak 🙂

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          • You said: :Yeah, cool song. Still not sure what to make of it…for me. Too many options, possibilities.”

            Actually, the song was for me. I just wanted you to hear it. It is a song I’m particularly drawn to. But then all music, is for all people, so if you find something in it for you, that is good. I listened to the song while I sat with your words. They connected me to my feelings. It’s hard to explain. But when explanation is difficult to convey, sometimes music steps in, and elaborates.

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    • Joanne, Ha! Sometimes, I walk along some path inside my head while I sit at the computer and stuff like this comes out. I like the feeling of where I go at times like this, I get lost in some other realm, or reality, or dimension. Usually, the writing is useless (but OK, you can use anything for one of these prompts at WP!! They even say so!). So no worries that you can’t follow it. That path in my head is very narrow! And…anyone who can follow it, let alone like it, has to be a very spooky person.

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    • Well, thanks Jo. But wait, are you impressed with the photos, or the weird words? Whichever…thanks, and thanks for visiting. How’s your blog coming?

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  7. It is coming slowly because… I am preparing for this amazing event in L.A. A panel discussion & cocktail party with (they may not mean anything to you) but I’m meeting the writer’s for the shows of NCIS L.A., Scandal; Marvel’s Agents of Shield, X-Files; The Following (which I don’t follow) but I like his other works: Rizzolli and Isles & CSI Miami. So, Andrea is coming out to go up with me and then today Ryan (my oldest boy) had his first baby girl. He now has one of each plus two foster children for a total of four children!! So, I’ve been busy. (And so have they) I’ve not heard from our child in HI, have you?

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  11. I love all the photos, oversaturated an’ all. So rich!
    As for the wonderful prose, you get me every time. How do you come up with stuff like : ‘Nor a parallel universe where your heart rides a Harley, and dangerous things—like love and trust and honesty—abound.’ A sense of heartache abounds also.
    love hugs grace
    Alison

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    • Thanks Alison. I actually don’t know where that stuff comes from when I sit to write. I don’t think like that, I don’t talk like that. Another me, or a me that taps into the cosmic energy, comes forth when I write. “your heart rides a Harley”…really? I want to know where THAT came from! Ancestor’s DNA, maybe?

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  12. Badfish, the colors of each image was enriching – and your words are tasty too – like ” But we listen to A Symphony of Disappearing Beers.” = and I read the comment above where you said you do not talk like this in real life- and well I think this shows the wonderful value of writing and how it has a special way of allowing us to express things – and my dad would have love this “your heart rides a Harley” ha!

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    • Glad you liked the color. That’s one reason why I like getting up early! Also, so happy you liked the words, because, you’re right, writing does allow one to express some things that we might not otherwise be able to do. I just love it when a phrase like that “leaks” out of me into a sentence.

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  13. Impressive images! At first I thought the first two images are the best ones until I saw the last one – they are all lovely. What did you do with the photo rehab? I visited the link but then I have to visit another link.. 😀 so is it sort of photo rehabilitation? 😀 what a cute word to edit an image 😀 😀

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    • I always find it very interesting that different people like different photos. I’m sure it’s the same with yours–one guy likes the clown fish, another likes the nudi? Photo Rehab is rehab for the photographer, not an edit! Ha! It’s like a weekly challenge without the challenge for folks who desire a challenge each week. And yeah, you have to go to another site to view all the shots…there’s good and bad in everything, eh?

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  14. H Badfish, if I follow you definition then I’m a spooky person as I love what you did here. It is easy to say that the photos are stunning, breathtaking. That being said, I can totally see where your words may come from. If I had a sanctuary’s view like that, I would become a writer like you. Maybe! I don’t hate you for that as you hate me, but I envy this view.
    Your words are like poetry, philosophy, earth and space science…and I could imagine having a cosmic chat, listening to the Symphony of Disappearing Bears, while watching the rivers and lakes through a huge telescope. Being guarded by Buddha, of course.
    Cheers!
    PS> Where have you been?

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    • Yes, you are spooky. I did get a little carried away with the poetic language here in this piece! Sorry. But the place is not quite a “sanctuary” and it certainly is not Amsterdam! You have this place beat, hands down. And you get great shots of the sun! But yeah, let’s hope Buddha guards us both, where ever we are!
      PS: I have been incognito, off the radar, out of touch. Work. Work. Work. Lazy, too. Blogging is so much work. I’m going to need to hire a secretary to keep up with all this stuff. And you posted every daily prompt!

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      • Now I’m spooky too. I like that. Are you apologizing for free writing? Don’t do that, please. These are the best things one can write. No controls, no self censorship, no traffic jam between soul, heart and mind.
        It’s not Amsterdam. And so what. We share the same sun!
        Yeah, let Buddha guard us all. That sounds better.
        I have been offline a lot too since last week Friday. I washed my iPhone with the laundry. Maybe to make you feel good for not buying a smartphone.
        Yes, blogging is a lot of work. I haven’t yet been able to reply to all comments I got here.
        If you hire a secretary, please share with me! lol
        I had scheduled some prompts before. But this week I was late. Posted it only after Wednesday. The course is over by now. Just one more prompt and I’m done.

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