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23 Oct


Several years ago I was going through a weird phase. Don’t we all go through those times in life where we are not very centered and lean toward a different variety of textures playing around tasting the new flavors of that journey? Come to think of it, this phase wasn’t even several years ago; more like 9 years ago. I blame it all on Y2K.

Wherever it came from, it lasted a couple of years and it ended when I moved to Texas. It stopped when I met my wonderful husband and my life changed over night. Tonight I was organizing books and found something on my very full bookshelf that I will share with you here.

I discovered SARK at a bookstore in the Inland Center Mall in San Bernardino back on those days where my wallet was exercised routinely. I bought her first book “Succulent Wild Woman” after a most amazing adventure followed by a total crash-&-burn event. I read the very colorful book and kept it on my coffee table where my gray cat slept. I had so much fun stimulating this creative side of me that she so encouraged. When her next book was published in 2001, I was the first in line to purchase “Eat Mangos Naked”. That book inspired much of my later poetry.

The first book I mentioned was one where SARK invites you to “live a rich, succulent life”. Eat Mangos Naked is a traveling companion she calls it. She says to “seek out plreasure and lightly scoop it up”. I did just that and scooped up all kinds of wonderful delicious things.

Then came the Journal and Playbook. It was published in 1993 but I did not pick up my copy until say 2002 in the middle of graduate school. At the time I was focused on Dr. Kent Badger’s health management lectures lasting well into the night on campus and I never quite got around to writing in it.

Tonight, I opened this book and found my own scribbles on those pages:
1. A sketch of myself when I was 12.
2. My secret name
3. Words describing how I would like to be thought of: rare, wild, treasured, spiritual
4. I let my inside child speak and wrote with my left hand.
5. A list of what I was afraid of. Some of those things remain today.
6. A list of amazing things I have done: Awesome career; education (graduate school); coordinated the pinning ceremony
for my class of graduating nurses; and I can travel ALONE!
7. A list of what I like to do as a friend for others: Taking care of their pets; making dinner for friends or a new neighbor,
giving a gift silently.

And then I found a list of what I want:
1. A great dane. (I was dating a dentist at that time who had two danes; I don’t want one now)
2. To be free. (I still am)
3. To live in a small town. (I moved to a small town in Texas in 2003)
4. To be good at golf. (I have a long way to go)
5. To finish the 3-Day cancer walk. (I did with my very dear friend Debbie in 2002 in Santa Barbara, California)
6. To be remembered.

There are many pages in this book waiting for thoughts, dreams, experiencs, fears, and gorgeous moments to be written with my brush. I like writing with a brush. My faith has become much more strong since 2002 so what I write in this book will be a much different angle than before. Perhaps I will share some of those thoughts right here later.


Posted by on October 23, 2009 in Photography


3 responses to “Blank Page

  1. Elin

    October 24, 2009 at 2:23 am

    Nice rose, I can almost smell the scent from the wet petals. . .

    I see you have ‘Elin2’ on your blogroll – as Elegies.
    Elegies is not me. She is an english woman who happens to follow both yours and my blogs since JS.
    I don’t know much about her. I have asked her for some more info but she remains quite anonymous . .
    (Dont you Elegies? LOL!)
    I like her photos and blog anyway 🙂

  2. Anna Surface

    October 24, 2009 at 9:17 pm

    Beautiful rose and sharing. SARK sounds fabulous. I’ll have to check her books out and perhaps eat mangoes naked. LOL 🙂

  3. Maggie Mae

    October 25, 2009 at 11:11 am

    I knew there was something special about you, I now can put a finger on it, we share a love for golf!
    No one ever gets good at golf, no matter how well you play we will still stew and kick ourselves over a putt or shot we could of hit better. “Perfection is unattainable.”
    Great photo and story as usual. 🙂


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