Wednesday, October 15, 2008

the miraculous power of the little white lie

i have this title floating around....the miraculous power, or maybe, the miraculous healing of the little white lie...the words just dance when i hear them inwardly or outwardly...i have been mulling them about for at least a week..the problem is filling in the giant blank that follows this title....
i think about my mother, in her early 80's, body stricken with various age related maladies....eyes dark and twinkling, the mischevious, rebellious little girl trapped in the twisted wreckage of life and age.
i think of both of the above, what was and is my mother and what isnt yet the story behind the title
i have begun a subtle, empathetic secret voyage, with the mother i never really knew, who never really knew, nor accepted, me...but how does one ever accept someone they have relegated to a stranger, bound by their own controlling notions, blind to what is standing in front of them

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greetings! i have managed to incorporate my eternal woodstock nation spirit with the high tech 21st century world. i am an artist/writer, who dabbles in rhyme, and, sometimes, reason. my passions are my husband, who is truly the wind that ruffles my sails, animals rights, yoga...waking up in the morning. i find inspiration in too many things to list, and far too many more to remember. sketching, watercolor painting,poetry and photography are my ways of expressing joy and gratitude. from living with a chronic illness, i have learned the beauty of each day, and treat each as another sun salutation, and another chance.