In December of 1967 Terry Carter, my classmate, was at the school dance wearing a shimmery silver dress. We danced either once, twice, or three times–I have memory issues now. The important thing is, we danced.
J.R.R. Tolkien, author of THE LORD OF THE RINGS, also wrote “Smith of Wootten Major.” His protagonist, a blacksmith with an enchanted star on his brow, made a journey through the land of Faery. Along the way he met a delightful, young-yet-ageless woman who ended up dancing with him. Before they parted company she told him to convey a message to Alf the Prentice: “The time has come. Let him choose.” Only after Smith, also known as Starbrow, completed his journey and delivered the message did he learn with whom he had danced.
So it is with Terry, so similar to the Faery girl. She hides her light under a bushel. She would rather I didn’t sing her praises. Yet I must.
TERRIFIC as a pre-dawn’s Hi
ENGAGING as a 3rd-act Sigh–her
Righteous WISDOM’s clear–and how
Refreshing as is Maui–Wow–I
Y•o•d•e•l as she earns Renown
It’s been a long time since I posted, and I have many things that I’m working on, but nothing current suitable to publish. But going over REALLY OLD files, back in 2007 when I was doing Journal Pages faithfully every day, with not much regard for calligraphy but some for inked color, and I ran across this fable about a meet-cute with a short guitar-playing guy and a really tall girl…
I remember that I was using the finest-point pen I could find–might have been a Rollerball or a Razor–and a set of Faber-Castell ink markers for the color. I also had a thing about presenting the date a different way every day, sort of like Will Eisner did with his SPIRIT logos.
And I remember yearning.
Of music, sacred smiles, and nagging doubt:
Pitch-perfect was the Evening. And the Girl:
Enchanting, very tall, she was about
Revealing hidden Power. Glide, and Whirl,
Allay the fear a young heart has, of Breaking,
Tend to her own as well. She Bends. They Kiss.
In no time her in height he’s overtaking,
Obverted through the Atmosphere, he’ll miss
Near-Parity. He slides back down to Smaller,
Since their sould need no Height to make them Taller.
Hard to say anything about this one that would not be misleading. It is neither random nor sensible. All guesses as to how the elements came together to interact in this frame will be neither true nor false. If you remove half the colors in a rainbow you still have millions of colors.
Happy Halloween, Friends. This drawing concludes my participation in Inktober 2019.
Congratulations to the Washington Nationals, who fulfilled their “Finish the Fight” byword with triumph.
Trammelled by parabola/Radared by a ballplayer/A red-stitched rising star/Jacked into the campusphere/Engages the focus of the fans/Caught in unresolved moment/Then triggered to mayhem/On the wings of leaping flexure/Right fielder foiling batsman/Yanking the ball from sky to mitt
“Hit me like a punch in the stomach.” A punch in the stomach can rupture a spleen, as Stephen King demonstrated in one of his novels.
The wrong words destroy confidence, break friendships, and bruise our psyches. Sometimes words are used with vicious intent, but not always. Sometimes it’s negligence. All too often, there’s a misunderstanding.
Let us remember, Friends: words can be weaponized. We have more destructive potential than we realize. So keep your powder dry, but keep your safeties on. Life is about nurturing, connecting, and joy, and not injuring.
Hang on, Kids. We are about to go on the Ride of Rides.
Ride’s over, Folks! But don’t leave just yet, please.
Somewhere in all that noisy mayhem is a TRIPLE-acrostic poem. This one:
Ride Ride Ride
Rapt ball to First–an easy grounder
I‘d like to with the World go rounder. I
Done declared that need for speed
Entangled LIFE to supersede
Why do people pay good money to get on carnival rides and be whirled and tilted and inverted and sped around so much? I suppose there are many reasons. Two of mine are 1) They are the epitome of “in the moment” 2) They provide a means of brief escape from the Real World and its nightmares.
There’s a song by Vanity Fare [sic] called “Hitchin’ a Ride” that’s been playing in my head since I started this page. My brain is an often-wiseacre jukebox, sometimes infuriatingly so, but this time it served me well. Just when I started this very paragraph I went to YouTube, found the song, and it has just finished playing on the laptop I’m typing on. Without my asking, YouTube then queued up “California Dreamin'” by the Mamas and Papas, and that is what is playing now, and California is where I was born, and where many of my family members live. Welcome to The Ride of My Life, Friends. 🙂
PS: Simon and Garfunkel are now singing “The Sound of Silence.” Sometimes Silence is blessed and golden, especially after a long, bumpy ride. 🙂