The one downside of posting my writing in blog form is that I can't go back and change anything without it being confusing, which for me might be a good thing. I'm a fan of erasing everything and starting over. This is the way I clean too. I just throw everything away. I'd rather toss it all and start afresh than fix what is already there. A good friend of mine said that, when it comes to writing, it's better to just finish something than try to make everything perfect and exact. I am fighting my very nature to not start this whole thing over. I'm slowly getting the concept that to write does not mean you're always going to be inspired and that everything is going to flow naturally from your heart into a readable and understandable fashion. It means that you have to be diligent and work at writing.
“I don't like to write, but I love to have written”
That's how I feel in a nutshell. Stay tuned for more writing this afternoon.
Love, Kristin
PS- Do you SEE how spiffy my new design is?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Vacation Inspiration
I just need to go on a few more vacations and I'll have this book written before I know it
“Well, we're just fine ma'am, a little on the famished side, but fine just the same. We would love to buy a couple of your beautiful apples though.” He said picking up 2 of the biggest ones she had and placing them in a plastic bag. He was made of organic kindness, undefiled and unpolluted.
“It's easy to be kind to someone you don't know. Once he gets to know who you really are things will change.” Billy's voice echoed in my mind. Chills racked my body. I looked at Kairon who was still carrying on a jovial conversation with the apple lady. His presence gave me a strange strength to confine the cruel voice in the prison I had created for it years ago.
I knew that I had to be going mad; following a man I didn't know to who knows where. It didn't make sense. I had spent my life building fortresses around myself. No one could hurt me if I made myself not feel. But in a matter of hours Kairon had busted through every wall I had ever built. For reasons unknown to even myself I completely trusted him. There was something natural about the way he held himself and interacted with the people around him. He was the way we were all supposed to be; kind, gentle, loving. I let my mind linger on the last adjective, if it could be called an adjective at all. His kind of love was more action than it was descriptive.
“Well, sugar, it was such a delight speaking with you! Please come back and see us soon!”
“Of course Roseanne! Have yourself a wonderful day.” He said slipping her more money than was necessary for our small purchase. We grabbed some sandwiches and two bottles of water and went to sit on a bench outside of the bustling market. He sat a good distance away from me, probably to make me feel more comfortable. I scooted closer, not ashamed of how much I needed him to be by my side. I eagerly bit into the sweetest apple I had ever tasted and downed most of the water in a matter of minutes. If my headache and swollen fingers weren't enough evidence that I was dehydrated, my impossible thirst after drinking the whole bottle of water confirmed my suspicions. Kairon had set his food to the side and observed me. He was rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers in a distressed fashion. He opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. It reminded me of the snapping turtles I had seen on a “recreational” day at the zoo with Billy and all the girls. I had yet to see a dent in his shell of overwhelming confidence, and it was somehow comforting to know that he was struggling with his words. It made him more like me. Finally his mouth opened and words began to form.
“Ava,” he began right as I was taking a large bite of my sandwich. An unruly piece of lettuce had managed to escape the vice of my mouth and dangled like a slimy green worm. I raised my eyes in response to his acknowledgment and quickly wiped the traitorous vegetable from my face. He smiled at my obvious embarrassment but it was a shadowed smile, not similar to the sun-like one I was used to. He took a deep breath and started again.
“I'm really sorry.” He said, ripping his gaze from my face like it physically pained him to look at me. What was this all about? What could he possibly be sorry for? I sat in silence, awkwardly chewing my food, allowing him to process and formulate his words. “I'm sorry that I didn't feed when you were hungry. I'm sorry that I never gave you a drink of water when you were thirsty. If I had just listened I could have been there in an instant. It makes me sick.” He pushed his sandwich to my side and I tried to swallow my food along with the lump that was forming in my throat. Seeing him in turmoil caused me turmoil.
“What do you mean? How could you have possibly known what I was going through? You don't even know me.” I said not wanting to look at his troubled form. He was leaning forward now, his hands cradling his tussled head of hair. From his mouth came such a disturbing groan, I was convinced he was in actual, real pain. Instinctively I reached my hand out and rested it on his back.
“But I do know you Ava Kennedy. I know that your father left your mother, pregnant and alone to face the world. I know that she worked three jobs to keep you and her afloat. I know that she loved you and took care of you the best she knew how. I know that she sent you to the best school and had no idea what was lurking in the establishment that was supposed to be taking care of her baby girl. There was a teacher there named Billy Mason,” We shuddered simultaneously at his name. “He became your friend and you started to trust him like the dad you never had. I know that he lured you to his car one day when you were 10 years old and that he kidnapped you, held you captive, and,” he choked back a sob and I could do nothing but stare at him. The tears dripped off my face like a melting icicle as I tried to process what he was saying.
“And I know that he sold your soul and your body to evil men for a few extra dollars. I know that you've been beaten more than you've been held, I know that you've been despised more than you've been loved and I know that you've been abandoned more than you have been supported and it's all because of me.”
“Well, we're just fine ma'am, a little on the famished side, but fine just the same. We would love to buy a couple of your beautiful apples though.” He said picking up 2 of the biggest ones she had and placing them in a plastic bag. He was made of organic kindness, undefiled and unpolluted.
“It's easy to be kind to someone you don't know. Once he gets to know who you really are things will change.” Billy's voice echoed in my mind. Chills racked my body. I looked at Kairon who was still carrying on a jovial conversation with the apple lady. His presence gave me a strange strength to confine the cruel voice in the prison I had created for it years ago.
I knew that I had to be going mad; following a man I didn't know to who knows where. It didn't make sense. I had spent my life building fortresses around myself. No one could hurt me if I made myself not feel. But in a matter of hours Kairon had busted through every wall I had ever built. For reasons unknown to even myself I completely trusted him. There was something natural about the way he held himself and interacted with the people around him. He was the way we were all supposed to be; kind, gentle, loving. I let my mind linger on the last adjective, if it could be called an adjective at all. His kind of love was more action than it was descriptive.
“Well, sugar, it was such a delight speaking with you! Please come back and see us soon!”
“Of course Roseanne! Have yourself a wonderful day.” He said slipping her more money than was necessary for our small purchase. We grabbed some sandwiches and two bottles of water and went to sit on a bench outside of the bustling market. He sat a good distance away from me, probably to make me feel more comfortable. I scooted closer, not ashamed of how much I needed him to be by my side. I eagerly bit into the sweetest apple I had ever tasted and downed most of the water in a matter of minutes. If my headache and swollen fingers weren't enough evidence that I was dehydrated, my impossible thirst after drinking the whole bottle of water confirmed my suspicions. Kairon had set his food to the side and observed me. He was rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers in a distressed fashion. He opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. It reminded me of the snapping turtles I had seen on a “recreational” day at the zoo with Billy and all the girls. I had yet to see a dent in his shell of overwhelming confidence, and it was somehow comforting to know that he was struggling with his words. It made him more like me. Finally his mouth opened and words began to form.
“Ava,” he began right as I was taking a large bite of my sandwich. An unruly piece of lettuce had managed to escape the vice of my mouth and dangled like a slimy green worm. I raised my eyes in response to his acknowledgment and quickly wiped the traitorous vegetable from my face. He smiled at my obvious embarrassment but it was a shadowed smile, not similar to the sun-like one I was used to. He took a deep breath and started again.
“I'm really sorry.” He said, ripping his gaze from my face like it physically pained him to look at me. What was this all about? What could he possibly be sorry for? I sat in silence, awkwardly chewing my food, allowing him to process and formulate his words. “I'm sorry that I didn't feed when you were hungry. I'm sorry that I never gave you a drink of water when you were thirsty. If I had just listened I could have been there in an instant. It makes me sick.” He pushed his sandwich to my side and I tried to swallow my food along with the lump that was forming in my throat. Seeing him in turmoil caused me turmoil.
“What do you mean? How could you have possibly known what I was going through? You don't even know me.” I said not wanting to look at his troubled form. He was leaning forward now, his hands cradling his tussled head of hair. From his mouth came such a disturbing groan, I was convinced he was in actual, real pain. Instinctively I reached my hand out and rested it on his back.
“But I do know you Ava Kennedy. I know that your father left your mother, pregnant and alone to face the world. I know that she worked three jobs to keep you and her afloat. I know that she loved you and took care of you the best she knew how. I know that she sent you to the best school and had no idea what was lurking in the establishment that was supposed to be taking care of her baby girl. There was a teacher there named Billy Mason,” We shuddered simultaneously at his name. “He became your friend and you started to trust him like the dad you never had. I know that he lured you to his car one day when you were 10 years old and that he kidnapped you, held you captive, and,” he choked back a sob and I could do nothing but stare at him. The tears dripped off my face like a melting icicle as I tried to process what he was saying.
“And I know that he sold your soul and your body to evil men for a few extra dollars. I know that you've been beaten more than you've been held, I know that you've been despised more than you've been loved and I know that you've been abandoned more than you have been supported and it's all because of me.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)