For the first time in 14 years you are not here. I miss you so much. Your soft intelligent eyes, the gentle sound of you asleep, your enthusiastic welcome whenever I came home.
You were the most constant, loyal friend. To me you are still here, I see you everywhere and I always will.
You fill my heart. I am so proud of you and so very, very priveleged to have been the person you chose to love.
I love you.
Walking into the garden at night I look up and there you are, waiting for me to become aware of you, full yet empty and cold.
You seem to come and go, to wax and wane but all of this is just an illusion, a coincidence of alignment, of light and shade. In reality your presence is a constant and it is my mind that comes to you for a few precious moments only to recoil again, dragged back into a world full of needless noise and clutter.
How can I accept that this is how it is. Your scales are immense, your silence absolute. You are impossibly near and yet impossibly far, held there by an absurd mathematical coincidence.
Patiently, silently, you show me another reality. Merciless and beautiful.
We have danced around each other for a long while now, I escape for shorter and shorter periods. Slowly I am dragged into orbit around you – myself, my sun, my planet and you collapse gradually into an intricate geometric dance of emotions, nights, months and years. As I age your cold silence tears away at my clutter and distractions and gathers me in.
You will be there for an impossibly long period after I have faded away, but even your power is not enough and you too will be defeated. I gaze at you against the darkness and swirling clouds and it seems to me that you know – that you are self aware and immensely alone in your silent darkness.
Notes from the Word Hoard
The way the exercise works is explained here.
Phrases
Show me another reality
Things are other
It waits silently for us
Cold voiceless and waiting
Distance and details
A cold beauty
Full yet empty and cold
Voiceless and cold
Passive and silent
Silently waits
Bring it over
Full yet empty and cold * Selected
I am currently half way through a creative writing course and as a continuous task, as well as weekly assignments, we are to write a 30 minute screenplay. As I have never thought at all about writing screenplays this is a big ask.
It is proving a really great way to learn about some sides of writing. For me the most fascinating aspects are
Conveniently it transpires that a minute of screenplay is a page – so the target is clear – I need to write 30 pages. Currently I am on page 13, so a bit behind. And in true amateur writers procrastination fashion I have done just about everything today – including blogging about writing – rather than actually write.
When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap.
Cynthia Heimel.
One of the best Sundays for a long while – really enjoyed a morning walk with Charlie – and taking photos of some Sussex Puddles…. and then all about a log fire, family friend popping by to take Mum on a well deserved vacation – Mark Shepherd, Karen and Abbie dropping by for coffee – then a log fire, learning LIghtroom 4 – starting work on this website and generally doing the things I love.. fantastic and energising!
