October 26, 2009
Last Tuesday in a writing critique group I belong to, one of the members, Angel, brought a poem. When she read the poem a second time I saw myself at age five in these lines…
“your adult body shelters that little boy
who whines and screams and stamps his feet…
these children lurk inside us
i’ve heard them squabbling –did too! did not!—”
After class I asked her if I could borrow an idea from it for this blog. She acquiesced. Thanks Angel! I’d been thinking, as I often do, about the all the stuff on the other side of the looking glass.
How pleasant life with each other would be if the kind and gentle nature of our child side would show itself… At least more often. I see it quite regularly in my great granddaughter… Is that Nirvana? Heaven is like the trusting goodness of little children (when left to their better natures…)? Hmmm…
For more stuff I’ve written, take a look at: http://www.bobwhite4stories.com .
Until next time, that’s it from The Storyman ….
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
October 18, 2009
When Weird Stuff Happens
We’re close enough to Halloween so I thought I’d delve into the stuff I can’t explain… Like Alice found surprises because there was more going on than she was aware of, there is more than what it appears going on in life. And I’m not talking about ghosts or goblins although I do firmly believe in the supernatural.
The other day I was reading this piece about how you can read a story for the tenth or eighty-third time and all of a sudden you see something there you’ve never read before. It’s new, different, and catches you off guard. Happened to me the other day when I was reading something I had written. It grabbed me. Did I really write that? How does that stuff happen?
I think I’ll have to crawl further down the hole and see if I can find an albino bunny to explain things... on second thought perhaps that will just create more confusion… I’ll never know until I try.
You can find more weird stuff on my web page http://www.bobwhite4stories.com .
Until next time, that’s it from The Storyman ….
When Weird Stuff Happens
We’re close enough to Halloween so I thought I’d delve into the stuff I can’t explain… Like Alice found surprises because there was more going on than she was aware of, there is more than what it appears going on in life. And I’m not talking about ghosts or goblins although I do firmly believe in the supernatural.
The other day I was reading this piece about how you can read a story for the tenth or eighty-third time and all of a sudden you see something there you’ve never read before. It’s new, different, and catches you off guard. Happened to me the other day when I was reading something I had written. It grabbed me. Did I really write that? How does that stuff happen?
I think I’ll have to crawl further down the hole and see if I can find an albino bunny to explain things... on second thought perhaps that will just create more confusion… I’ll never know until I try.
You can find more weird stuff on my web page http://www.bobwhite4stories.com .
Until next time, that’s it from The Storyman ….
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Dying for a Swim
October 14, 2009
Dying for a Swim
The other afternoon I was trying to enjoy a quiet lunch on the patio with my wife, Loa. Meanwhile some flies, I suppose exercised over the changing weather that would spell their doom with the coming cold, and the chance for a penultimate meal, had descended on us. It wasn’t quite like the Egyptian plague recorded in Exodus but they descended in larger numbers than usual.
One fly in particular kept buzzing Loa and threatening to land, dirty feet first, on her asparagus and cheddar quiche. After much waving him away he settled on the lip of her class of Chardonnay.
Then he took a dive. Ahhh… There’s nothing quite like taking a swim… in vino. He paddled about, doing the breast stroke. I can only imagine what he thought. (Do flys think? My fantasy demands they do.)
His sad end came when we refused to rescue him. Are there some perverse lessons here? Hmmm. It did prompt another look in Alice’s mirror
Dying for a Swim
The other afternoon I was trying to enjoy a quiet lunch on the patio with my wife, Loa. Meanwhile some flies, I suppose exercised over the changing weather that would spell their doom with the coming cold, and the chance for a penultimate meal, had descended on us. It wasn’t quite like the Egyptian plague recorded in Exodus but they descended in larger numbers than usual.
One fly in particular kept buzzing Loa and threatening to land, dirty feet first, on her asparagus and cheddar quiche. After much waving him away he settled on the lip of her class of Chardonnay.
Then he took a dive. Ahhh… There’s nothing quite like taking a swim… in vino. He paddled about, doing the breast stroke. I can only imagine what he thought. (Do flys think? My fantasy demands they do.)
His sad end came when we refused to rescue him. Are there some perverse lessons here? Hmmm. It did prompt another look in Alice’s mirror
Monday, October 5, 2009
October 5, 2009
You’re Beautiful
Lionel watched her enter the room. He appraised her as the familiar feelings welled inside. He rose and took her hand. “You know, you’re beautiful.”
Jean made a face and pulled away. “I don’t think so. Maybe thirty or forty years ago when I had a better figure and gravity hadn’t done it’s work.”
“No,” he said. “There’s no doubt. You are beautiful.”
“To you.”
“You miss my point,” he said.
Hands on her hips she walked into his space. “And that is?”
“Thirty or forty years ago you were pretty. You had a model’s figure and a model’s face. Now, I’ve grown to know what you really are. That ‘s why I said you’re beautiful. Pretty is on the outside. Beauty comes from down deep in the soul.”
“Oh, Lionel,” she said. “I think I’m going to cry.”
“Hush now, my love.” Lionel drew her to him and kissed her.
Here’s the link to my web page: http://www.bobwhite4stories.com .
Until next time, that’s it from the Storyman ….
You’re Beautiful
Lionel watched her enter the room. He appraised her as the familiar feelings welled inside. He rose and took her hand. “You know, you’re beautiful.”
Jean made a face and pulled away. “I don’t think so. Maybe thirty or forty years ago when I had a better figure and gravity hadn’t done it’s work.”
“No,” he said. “There’s no doubt. You are beautiful.”
“To you.”
“You miss my point,” he said.
Hands on her hips she walked into his space. “And that is?”
“Thirty or forty years ago you were pretty. You had a model’s figure and a model’s face. Now, I’ve grown to know what you really are. That ‘s why I said you’re beautiful. Pretty is on the outside. Beauty comes from down deep in the soul.”
“Oh, Lionel,” she said. “I think I’m going to cry.”
“Hush now, my love.” Lionel drew her to him and kissed her.
Here’s the link to my web page: http://www.bobwhite4stories.com .
Until next time, that’s it from the Storyman ….
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