Oh, Tara. This is gorgeous. I have now read it for the third time today. And I will surely return to it.
Would you mind if I restacked it? I'd love people to read these beautiful words. And also, there's nothing that makes me happier than artist/poet/writer's words inspiring each other to more art/poetry/writing. That their work inspires me to more of mine is one of the top ways I pick my favorite creators. So I'm deeply honored by this poem.
And me too. I would have been wholeheartedly annoyed to have needed a rescue in that particular situation. (I say this last part because I have certainly been wholeheartedly joyous for many a rescue in my life.) ♥️
Aww, yay, I'm glad you like it. Yes, you are welcome to restack it. You can tell readers that they'll need to read your post to answer any mysterious references. 😆
Hooray for timely rescuers ... only when needed. :-)
Your essay beautifully illustrates the interconnectedness of our experiences. The image of the kitten-shaped lump, first hazy and then solid, struck me as a metaphor for the way we perceive reality. We often see things through a veil of our own assumptions and expectations, but as we get closer, the truth reveals itself. Sometimes it's delightful, sometimes it's disappointing, but it's always real. It reminds me that the journey of self-discovery is not just about finding ourselves, but also about constantly re-evaluating our understanding of the world around us.
Yes, that's exactly the metaphor I was hoping to draw with the kitten-shaped lump. And the point that it's always real. Wonderful. Thank you for seeing this and reflecting it back so well.
All of this resonates with me, Alexander, particularly how we see everything through a veil of assumption and expectation. We can't possibly know all that we think we do.
I listened to you reading this as I was waking up this morning and then fell back to sleep into a dreamscape that looked like this: “kayaking through watercolor under an osprey’s gaze and sleeping with a squirrel and confusing a cow for a bear on a yellow hill.”
Thank you for the stunning dream filled with magic and color and mystery. 🤍
That was something. I felt as if I inhabited your mind for the minutes it took to read your story, and it was an oddly freeing experience. I love the image of the three legs, knee, and chin. So poignant. And the light on the lake? Marvelous. Thanks Holly.
Oh how wonderful, Diane. Thank you. I really liked that image too and toyed with saying more to make sure it came across. I'm so glad it worked in this minimal sketch I ended up landing on.
Beautiful. Kayaking helps me be me. Alaska helped. Reading (things like your writing) and writing helps. Laughing with kids. Talking with kind people. Eating pizza. Slacklining. Juggling. Even thinking about how we all are mortal and then being glad to be alive.
Holly, the imagery: "dawn watercolor" only one example, the telling that reaches the heart, the heart that is saved by a better diagonosis and broken my misunderstanding and the whole essay that reaches my heart with all the gifts that the beauty of truth can bring, all here on the page, in your voice and the photo soars.
Or said I did... I suppose it was true in the moment you said it. But moments are fleeting, and we are allowed to change. I'm sorry more recent moments have been more painful. I'm sorry about your church, or more specifically about the people who fill that church. It is a story to which I relate all too well, a story of the people who now fill my own former church, having "disaffiliated" from a larger collection of associated churches to be able to practice its own perversions unencumbered.
I'm grateful for water and watercolor, osprey and squirrel, large ambling mammals, fog, you. Your upcoming projects sound like you're running with the right crowd! 😊
Really beautiful, Holly. Your words shimmer like the ripples on the lake.
That lake view is stunning. I wish I had that view right now.
I loved this here. Be surveyed by a fish hawk. What a wonderful shift of perspective.
"I want to say, “But if you find someday you’ve swallowed it, go to a lake and watch dawn watercolor. Soak in honey-gold rays and be surveyed by a fish hawk. Watch a bear moving lazily across a straw-gold field far away and call it a cow. Share your pillow with a squirrel and try not to freak out about it. Row till your arms burn with strength and sun and lie on the sand.”"
Oh, man, your response makes me want to rewrite this paragraph! How about this?
I want to say, “But if you find someday you’ve swallowed it, go to a lake and be watercolored by dawn. Be surveyed by a fish hawk. Be the canvas honey-gold rays lay themselves across. Let a cow moving lazily across a straw-gold field far away glance in your direction and think, dog. Be a squirrel’s pillow.”
Too much? I’m going to think on it awhile and maybe change it. 😊
God I love the immediacy of this platform. Thanks for reading and commenting, Nathan!
Reading this while I'm still in bed, enjoying that little moment before I have to wake up, and this was just such a beautiful piece to read at the start of the day. Thanks 🌼
Oh Holly, you weave such a very rich and interconnected tapestry of thought and vision and pain. Every word a resonant prickle on my skin... yes, yet more! I am fizzing but beautifully, clear headed into my afternoon which itself is filled with ??? Thank you - you always light a way otherwise unclear. x
If there’s one thing I’ve learned “living unfixed” it’s that pain and beauty are inseparable, living alongside one another, if not twins by different names. Your capacity to lean into your own truth, let it pummel you over and over again as you seek acceptance, whilst simultaneously resting your eyes and heart on sunrises and kindness—this is life-giving for all you encounter through prose or presence. Thank you for splaying yourself open for us all to witness, gasp in wonder and exalt the beauty that you are.
This thick embroidery of images throughout your story (even as we learn you've had a health setback) gives me this sensation of a "Tale" - a concept peculiar to one of my favorite books of all time ("Little, Big") - and casts these moments in such a reverential light. 💙
Reading your writing, Holly, feels like this sort of deep vivid trip through halls of the human condition. I feel like you put so much powerful stuff onto the page, but equally powerful is what’s not said but only eluded to. It wonderful stuff. :)
I could only answer this gorgeous post with a poem.
.
Dear Holly,
I see how radiance
claims you as its favorite,
holds
so tightly that
your body flames --
truth-fire
too hot, too close,
captivating
after all;
.
this body,
aching witness of
bright disclosures,
bobbing in
tidal grief for all
who double down
on what's not love.
In this mad world,
a cow/bear knows enough
(of love)
and a "church" does not.
No wonder every limb protests.
.
.
Look, Holly, deer!
Down by the edge of the lake
Drinking from the measureless
basin, where
last night, dear,
you wept.
.
I'm glad you had light breezes that day, and the man with the boat did not have to play rescue. :-)
Oh, Tara. This is gorgeous. I have now read it for the third time today. And I will surely return to it.
Would you mind if I restacked it? I'd love people to read these beautiful words. And also, there's nothing that makes me happier than artist/poet/writer's words inspiring each other to more art/poetry/writing. That their work inspires me to more of mine is one of the top ways I pick my favorite creators. So I'm deeply honored by this poem.
And me too. I would have been wholeheartedly annoyed to have needed a rescue in that particular situation. (I say this last part because I have certainly been wholeheartedly joyous for many a rescue in my life.) ♥️
Aww, yay, I'm glad you like it. Yes, you are welcome to restack it. You can tell readers that they'll need to read your post to answer any mysterious references. 😆
Hooray for timely rescuers ... only when needed. :-)
This is all magical. 💫🌟
💕
You two are making magic together and it does my heart good.
Mine too.
Your prose is poetic. It grabs my heart. Here’s how I would describe a teary afternoon— I had a sob fest.
You have not only a way with words but your way with words.
Gah, thank you, my friend. What a lovely thing to say.
I had a sob fest gets the job done too! ;0)
Thank you ever so much for reading and engaging.
Your essay beautifully illustrates the interconnectedness of our experiences. The image of the kitten-shaped lump, first hazy and then solid, struck me as a metaphor for the way we perceive reality. We often see things through a veil of our own assumptions and expectations, but as we get closer, the truth reveals itself. Sometimes it's delightful, sometimes it's disappointing, but it's always real. It reminds me that the journey of self-discovery is not just about finding ourselves, but also about constantly re-evaluating our understanding of the world around us.
Yes, that's exactly the metaphor I was hoping to draw with the kitten-shaped lump. And the point that it's always real. Wonderful. Thank you for seeing this and reflecting it back so well.
All of this resonates with me, Alexander, particularly how we see everything through a veil of assumption and expectation. We can't possibly know all that we think we do.
That veil is so real, right?
I listened to you reading this as I was waking up this morning and then fell back to sleep into a dreamscape that looked like this: “kayaking through watercolor under an osprey’s gaze and sleeping with a squirrel and confusing a cow for a bear on a yellow hill.”
Thank you for the stunning dream filled with magic and color and mystery. 🤍
I loved those words, too. Pitch-perfect Holly. ❤️
Gah! Inspiring dreams and poetry. I am honored and filled up with joy today.
That was something. I felt as if I inhabited your mind for the minutes it took to read your story, and it was an oddly freeing experience. I love the image of the three legs, knee, and chin. So poignant. And the light on the lake? Marvelous. Thanks Holly.
Oh how wonderful, Diane. Thank you. I really liked that image too and toyed with saying more to make sure it came across. I'm so glad it worked in this minimal sketch I ended up landing on.
Thank you for reading and commenting. 🥰
It was perfect the way you wrote it.
Beautiful. Kayaking helps me be me. Alaska helped. Reading (things like your writing) and writing helps. Laughing with kids. Talking with kind people. Eating pizza. Slacklining. Juggling. Even thinking about how we all are mortal and then being glad to be alive.
Erik! This is a wonderful list. Alaska helped me too. And kind people and laughing and pondering mortality. Mmmm. Beautiful back at you.
Thank you ever so much for reading and commenting and writing and seeking out what helps you be.
Holly, the imagery: "dawn watercolor" only one example, the telling that reaches the heart, the heart that is saved by a better diagonosis and broken my misunderstanding and the whole essay that reaches my heart with all the gifts that the beauty of truth can bring, all here on the page, in your voice and the photo soars.
Thank you, thank you, dear Mary. I am grateful for you and your beautiful words.
Or said I did... I suppose it was true in the moment you said it. But moments are fleeting, and we are allowed to change. I'm sorry more recent moments have been more painful. I'm sorry about your church, or more specifically about the people who fill that church. It is a story to which I relate all too well, a story of the people who now fill my own former church, having "disaffiliated" from a larger collection of associated churches to be able to practice its own perversions unencumbered.
I'm grateful for water and watercolor, osprey and squirrel, large ambling mammals, fog, you. Your upcoming projects sound like you're running with the right crowd! 😊
Thank you, thank you. Kinda back on the upswing in the last couple of days with a med adjustment. Woot woot. Still dialing in the right combos.
And yeah, there are so many institutions out there, not to mention society in general, bent on getting people to conform.
I'm grateful for you!
Really beautiful, Holly. Your words shimmer like the ripples on the lake.
That lake view is stunning. I wish I had that view right now.
I loved this here. Be surveyed by a fish hawk. What a wonderful shift of perspective.
"I want to say, “But if you find someday you’ve swallowed it, go to a lake and watch dawn watercolor. Soak in honey-gold rays and be surveyed by a fish hawk. Watch a bear moving lazily across a straw-gold field far away and call it a cow. Share your pillow with a squirrel and try not to freak out about it. Row till your arms burn with strength and sun and lie on the sand.”"
Oh, man, your response makes me want to rewrite this paragraph! How about this?
I want to say, “But if you find someday you’ve swallowed it, go to a lake and be watercolored by dawn. Be surveyed by a fish hawk. Be the canvas honey-gold rays lay themselves across. Let a cow moving lazily across a straw-gold field far away glance in your direction and think, dog. Be a squirrel’s pillow.”
Too much? I’m going to think on it awhile and maybe change it. 😊
God I love the immediacy of this platform. Thanks for reading and commenting, Nathan!
PS “to be watercoloured” as a verb like this just fills me with inspiration.
😆 I know, right? The immediacy and community are something else.
You totally didn't need to rewrite it but that is equally brilliant. Love it.
Reading this while I'm still in bed, enjoying that little moment before I have to wake up, and this was just such a beautiful piece to read at the start of the day. Thanks 🌼
Oh I’m so glad. Thank you, Sophie, so very much for reading and commenting. 🥰
Oh Holly, you weave such a very rich and interconnected tapestry of thought and vision and pain. Every word a resonant prickle on my skin... yes, yet more! I am fizzing but beautifully, clear headed into my afternoon which itself is filled with ??? Thank you - you always light a way otherwise unclear. x
If there’s one thing I’ve learned “living unfixed” it’s that pain and beauty are inseparable, living alongside one another, if not twins by different names. Your capacity to lean into your own truth, let it pummel you over and over again as you seek acceptance, whilst simultaneously resting your eyes and heart on sunrises and kindness—this is life-giving for all you encounter through prose or presence. Thank you for splaying yourself open for us all to witness, gasp in wonder and exalt the beauty that you are.
The writing is as gorgeous as the video of that watercolor lake. Appreciate hearing you read it, too.
Thank you, Tina!
I so appreciate you listening and commenting.
Beautiful writing, Holly, thank you for sharing this with us.
Thank you, Alexander.
I appreciate you being here. :)
This thick embroidery of images throughout your story (even as we learn you've had a health setback) gives me this sensation of a "Tale" - a concept peculiar to one of my favorite books of all time ("Little, Big") - and casts these moments in such a reverential light. 💙
By John Crowley? I haven't read it. Adding it to my reading list! Love reccs from writer friends.
And thanks ever so much for reading and commenting.
Yes, it’s a little worn in a couple of spots now (40 years on) but it’s quite wonderful
Reading your writing, Holly, feels like this sort of deep vivid trip through halls of the human condition. I feel like you put so much powerful stuff onto the page, but equally powerful is what’s not said but only eluded to. It wonderful stuff. :)
Wow, that's a wonderful thing to say. Letting it soak in and stay with me. Thank you, thank you, my friend.