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Saturday, November 1, 2014

The dance

There are times I do not post because I am tired, busy...or perhaps have nothing to say.  But often times I am just not ready to share...yet. My stories and thoughts fill journals and fuel daydreams. When I don't take the time to be still and 'watch' them then I cannot see how they may fit together, compliment or conflict with each other...I have spent a lot of time this year watching my thoughts dance. At times it is a bit like sensory overload at the Nutcracker and I have to wander out to the lobby for a glass of wine or step outside for some fresh air; sometimes I have to let them be. 
They are always waiting when I return.



The dance

I have a story in my mind
Beautiful, raw, enigmatic
It does not hold still; 
will not be captured in a box of pen and paper
Not yet.

It is busy dancing
Twirling and twisting
Great leaps of faith, fact and fiction.
I struggle to see details of joy, pain 
and most importantly, grace.

The real beauty is in the dance
With frightened fascination and excitement of a child, 
I watch.
I want the spinning to stop
for a moment.

Still itself long enough for me to know 
the texture of its flesh,
hear its panting breath; smell the sweat of creation.
Sometimes it becomes unbearable to watch
and I turn away.

I will be sad when the dance is over…
Carefully, reluctantly place it in a pretty box and
carry my precious gift with me.
How can I give it to someone who never saw
the dance?


It has been said that art is a tryst, for in the joy of it maker and beholder meet. --Kojiro Tomita (in Art & The Happiness Entrepreneur)

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