musings of a melancholic: walk

Showing posts with label walk. Show all posts

I see the moss being ripped from the stones of my brain, the soil in reluctant acquiescence to the bounty and strength of my own internal, intellectual Spring. Ideas, thoughts, dreams all begin to roll, to gain momentum where once they were still and cozy in their bed.

I underestimated the energy that this small writer's workshop would provide toward my own self-education. I suddenly have a strong desire to methodize my work, to keep hours, to create a studio space and altar for writing, to submit rough drafts, t,o attend book readings, to read and read and read. Even the people I want to read has changed drastically. While I still have a great reverence for the literature of the great past, I have a new hunger to read these names I am encountering in the class. It all started with Cheryl Strayed, but from there I have been devouring the brilliant poetry of Brenda Shaughnessy, the writing wisdom of Natalie Goldberg, the rhetoric of Jessica Valenti, the lyrical non-fiction of Lidia Yuknavich.

It's as if I just learned to read and I am hungry for more and more words. A world has opened itself before my eyes and I am jumping into it. Authors I never cared to know about, books that seemed too easy, too modern.

I am asking myself all kinds of questions, really hard questions...but I am also finally empowered enough to feel as though I can actually answer them for myself. To define myself as writer based on MY principles and preferences and definition of success, and not what I assume it should be. I hear this voice saying,"I can do this!" whereas I used to hear it question, "Wait, can I do this?". I have to tell you, it's impossibly thrilling!

Forsythia from Mom's

Even more Forsythia!

Forsythia in sunlight

Standing under the canopy of a very old cherry

Cherry Blossoms line our streets

I love the contrast of old to new growth

Driveways lined with Camilla flowers

Weeping Cherries are one of my very favorites

What a great house

Daphne!

In other movement, Spring has certainly sprung in Seattle. In an effort to exercise more (and to get Bowie out of the house), the baby and I have been walking all around our lovely neighborhood on what I call 'noticing' walks. I probably look crazy, since I am carrying Bowie on my back and people must think I am actually talking to myself, but I speak to her of all the trees and plants and birds that I happen to know. We touch them and smell them and take photos of them.

In even more movement, I have decided to make Kombucha! The first batch is brewing as we speak, so I am hoping beginner's luck will smile upon me.

And last, but never least, Bowie has also gained momentum in a few areas. She cut her second tooth, has tried (and loved) rice cakes, is on the brink of crawling, and has decided to grow hair in the style of 80s punk rock. I am proud.

*Neko Case

The Story of A Night:

A husband and wife, having just finished eating a dinner of pasta and cucumber salad, sat on the couch to converse. Her blood felt heavy in her veins, a sadness slowing her bones. As the sun set, their eyes began to droop. Feeling unable to stomach bedding themselves at 8:30pm, they decided to put on their shoes, coats, scarves; she painted her lips. They braced themselves against the spring wind, mighty and surprising. Arriving at their favorite local tea shop, she ordered her usual Chai and he some rare form of Jasmine. They decided to accept the cozy invitation of the lounge chairs and began to peruse the random assortment of books. She took up a photographic homage to Marlene Dietrich; he leafed through a travel guide to tea shops in the Northwest. Classical music played overhead, the mystical scent of incense infused the air. Afterward, they stopped for gelato and walked the blocks home; their energy and moods much elevated and invigorated by the fresh air and whimsical spontaneousness.
In short, they felt better.

Last night, after my lover came home from work and I bombarded him with a beer and a hug, and after we ate tomato soup and cheddar/rosemary biscuits, and after bundling up in heavy coat and donning our hats - we went for a walk to celebrate the most beautiful misty rain tickling the cherry blossoms.

On the subject of these lovely blooms, I swear they came out of nowhere! One day last week, I was riding the bus to work and saw the faintest pink on a far-away tree and I though to myself, "Surely, no! It's too cold!" But as I looked around more and more, I realized they are indeed deciding it is time to begin their reproductive cycle. Audacious buggers.

So we took a lovely walk. We sauntered around in the dusk with two rouge kitties in tow. We pilfered blossoms of cherries, jasmine, and Daphne to inhale deeply (oh Daphne, you make me swoon. Have you ever smelled Daphne?!!). We swigged from the wine bottle Joel hid in his English Great Coat. We walked toward the lake, ducking under corkscrew willows and stepping gingerly over spasmodic daffodils. We admired old architecture and ancient stairs made of stone.