Exactly what is it YOU see? Click here for a page I started, titled Earthy Nature, where you will find what I saw.
Ancient Gasoline: a gallon
Decaying wood: a ton piled high
Ten inches of freshly fallen angel white snow
Light winds, perfect for fanning the flames
I love a good burn!
Wrapping cloth soaked in lamp oil around a stick
Standing back, the smoke will be thick
A simple flick of the bic
Flames burst from the pit!
Once the burn is established
Everything collected—useless—and old
Goes on to be turned to flames of gold
That is when
The memories burn!
I stand in dirty snow
Letting forever go
What I once loved
My hands are gloved.
Ashes—far they fly!
The struggle is real. What’s on my fridge? Not in my fridge, which is nothing. Actually, I do have six gallons of water occupying its shelves, which makes my refrigerator act as if it has food. And in the back lower corner is a lonely box of baking soda making only the plastic smell fresh. But these are on the inside; I’m struggling to understand what’s on the outside.
For beginnings, what is up with the blue bunny sticker that has a dog sitting in its belly? Did the bunny eat a dog? Must be one big bunny. Hey, can I eat that?
Of course, there is my friend’s kid’s art. I think the “kid” might be in college now, but we are too afraid to remove the “fine art from the fridge” for fear it is synonymous to some voodoo-doll-type murder.
Now I come to the “too good to be true” La-La nail files. Colored glitter green and righteous red sparkle, dear me, just awe-inspiring and hard to choose which to accent my next faux-drag outfit with—La, de, la, la—Laaaaaa!
Lists! Why—why are they on every fridge I have ever lived in company with? Lists of do’s, lists of don’t’s, lists of better do this, instead of that. Indubitably I need my lists and my lists need me!
I am forever fascinated with time and our magnificent worlds of life; how we all turn, burn, and return…answers wait to truly be found. Can there possibly be another Einstein?
I have a wonder woman magnet—only a best friend can give you this and honestly show his love by gushing out, “Because you are.”
A piece of white paper with specific lines and a G-cleft with no music written in, inspire him to create notes carried magically through the air—they are heard, are enjoyed and are written in one’s heart with no need of paper.
Every day, I hope: In all my days—not a one like this!
Verily, sometimes I come to my fridge and understand. Other days, life has a lot of bumps in the road. I try not to hit them all or I’ll need unthinkable alignment. The struggle is real.