Bite – SoCS July 9/16

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I never did like weak orange squash when I was a kid. Even worse, insipid Roses’s Lime Juice Cordial or, the mother of all sharp drinks, PLJ. I wanted the bite at the back of my tongue, I wanted it to make my eyes water just a little. I really wanted to experience it, in all its pleasure/pain combinations. ‘Dilute to taste’ wasn’t really a phrase that I wanted to hear, when my taste was (and still is) for strong, sharp-toothed experiences. I like concentration.

Life can be, quite frankly, almost unbearably challenging, tough, hard and gut-wrenching. It can also be glorious, touch the clouds sky-rocketing, amazing and awesome, in the true sense of those two words.

Sometimes, I hunger for calm and peace, especially in the space that my brain occupies, behind my eyes and between my ears. But, honestly, much as I relish the fleeting calm, I adore the highs, and they would not be quite so high, without the lows.

Concentration. No dilution. Distilled to the basic, overpowering essence. That’s what drives me and feeds my creativity. Writing without passion (of the dark sort or the light) for me, is almost impossible.


 

It’s time for another Stream of Consciousness Saturday post, prompted by the lovely Linda. This week, her prompt is ‘Concentration’ to be interpreted in any way we see fit. Can anyone identify with my thoughts, I wonder?

It’s a fun thing, to let your thoughts meander where they will. Why not hop on on over to Linda’s blog, read a few entries, or take the plunge and take part?

Pax – Quadrille

 

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Quiet time, me time

sketching time, writing time

listening time.

Soothe me, relax me

enthuse me, indulge me

cosset me.

Like jewels, but more so

yet fleeting, so ethereal

like butterfly wings

or dandelion kisses

scattered on summer breeze.

This is living for me.


A quadrille about what makes my heart sing.

Long – SoCS July 2/16

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I’ve always wanted to be one of those women who look good in long dresses. At my graduation party years ago we all dressed up in our finery – some of my friends had proper evening dresses and ballgowns – I couldn’t find anything floorlength that didn’t either drag another six inches of material on the ground, or was way too small on my top half, because it was child-size – and i had boobs.

My mum made me a beautiful outfit – a full, black watered silk skirt and a deep purple velvet jacket, complete with lovely buttons. It was handmade, original, and all my friends loved it, as did I.

I still felt like the odd one out though.

I find it very difficult to buy trousers to fit – short legs, wide hips, chunky thighs. I don’t hate my shape (well, maybe sometimes, just a little), I just wish that clothes manufacturers didn’t assume that we all have stick thin, long legs and boyish hips. Most of us don’t! We are female, after all. We’re meant to go in and out again – aren’t we?

Still, it won’t be long until I can be the crazy old lady, wearing charity shop finds and cartoon character sock, and nobody will care.

Oh wait… I think I’m halfway there already 😉


 

Here’s my latest offering for the lovely Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday where this week she invites to write inspired by ‘long’. 

Please do head on over to Linda’s blog, read, enjoy, and why not be inspired to take part?