She threw her head back in laughter as I failed my attempt to convince her of my destitution. As her head came forward, to address my self-pity, she brushed her hair back behind her right ear. “My dear friend”, she said, as she stared deep into my soul, “no one is perfect because there is no such thing.”
I find myself thinking of you more and more every day. At first it was just an occasional thought prompted by a photograph or hearing your name. Now, it is daily and sometimes even hourly; every memoria more elevated than the one before. All of my senses are heightened to an almost uncontrollable ache that I can only bandage until the next imago of your paradise creeps in. My head is spinning and I don’t know where to go from here. You engulf my very soul.
I want to wake up where you are. I won’t say a word; just sentio intently the orchestra that is your voice. The seagull trumpets along with the woodwinds blowing through the tall grasses. The crashing symbols of each wave builds with the percussion beats. The violins flow through the breeze of each boulder and stone with the piccolo playing curiously as a seal bobs it head watching intently.
I long for the essence of your breathe with its saline enchantment. My hair becomes alive with motus in your every exhale and I can feel your sanguine embrace on my skin. The memory of your kaleidoscopic form creates an overwhelming need to see you, as if my heart will explode at any moment from a deep sorrow.
Someday, my amatus, we will convene again and I will embrace your entirety as I once had. Once again you will be my teacher and I your pupil. Once again I will experience the full rapture of your existence and I will attempt, with unqualified abilities, to capiet eaminfilm.
I normally do not find myself in cemeteries but I found this to be an exception. The Rose Hill Cemetery in Macon, GA was extraordinary.
I was curious as to the historical side of this place more so than the gravestones. Yet, while walking through the area, I found myself in awe of the beauty in some of them. This saying, in particular, caught my eye. It was written on the side of a gentleman’s gravestone. I think it says it all.
To use something as elegant as a tree (for paper)… they make oxygen, sequester carbon, fix nitrogen, distill water, accrue solar energy as fuel, make complex sugars and food, create micro-climates, provide shade and shelter, self replicate, change color with the seasons… let’s knock that down and write on it?
I’ve now had the privilege, no… honor, to watch the drama class at Taos High School perform The Crucible, twice.
After watching the 1996 movie with Winona Ryder and Daniel Day-Lewis, I can honestly say that I was a bit concerned. This movie is based upon the amazing play, written by Arthur Miller. This is a very dramatic story that has you in tears and also can bring up more stronger emotions like anger and fear.
THS did an excellent job at portraying all of these emotions. These “kids” did a top notch job at capturing the audience and engulfing them in the story as if we were all truly there.
I was given permission by the, clearly talented drama teacher Mr Overley, to take photos of a practice.
There are two shows left, Oct 31 and Nov 1 at 7pm.
I can not recommend seeing this show enough! Not only will the $10 admission fee go towards their next performance in the Spring but it will show the immense support for such a fantastic program.
My husband and I decided to take a much, over-due drive out to Valle Vidal, NM.
At first, I was a little disappointed that this turned out so blurry. Trying to capture this beauty, at night and while he was clearly not interested in posing for me, was more difficult than I could have anticipated.
Then, after changing it to black n white, I saw the magical side of it. Yes, he is there but only for a brief moment. He became more of a spirit than the actual body. I am grateful.