Saturday, February 4, 2017

New Dig

Now is the perfect time to get  back in the bloggisphere. Not a question of loneliness,  a question of figuring out how to get from point A to point B. Does it need to be about traveling or moving into the future, assisted by a torch that can enlighten me of any rock in my path that I end up kicking by accident or on purpose? Such rocks can appear over and over on the road. They want to trip me so I loose my balance, my sense of direction and inflict me with great physical pain. As a collector I can appreciate this unusual hobby and I can get a sadistic pleasure in deciding what rock with be memorable, the one that will set me off course for weeks and then push me to fall heart first and scar me for life. The wise approach would be to stop kicking this rock further so not to trip again on it and not be a continuous subject of pain. I get to see it in the horizon and even sometimes in my pocket, and expect the worse out of it and yet I can't get myself to make myself toss it or, even better,  bury it, without drawing a treasure map to unearth it later. Its cutting edges have become a sensation that I crave and something that helps me go on the trail... but where was I? Ah yes! I wish I knew, I wish I knew. What lays ahead is uncharted, unfriendly, uncomfortable, unloved, undone, unknown and yet it is the hope of what won't be that make it all worthwhile and so, even so dim, I hold the light above my head and pray that the fire won't go out.


Deb Hardman said...

Beautifully written Roxann. There have been some big rocks lately, & not so pretty. I do really love my real rock collection though. Much like my button collection. I find comfort in sorting them, feeling the cool, smooth & rough textures, admiring their subtle colors & sparkles. I'm not so crazy about the metaphorical rocks though, they seem to hurt more.

Iliana said...

Roxane it's so good to see a post from you! I hope you find it helpful to come back to the blog world!

Sandra Moreano said...

I love your rock story. It is so ironic that Colette and I were collecting rocks in the rain yesterday. She loves rocks and is always bringing them home from school. Her mom finally said NO MORE ROCKS. So now she is just make rock piles in the front yard.