Life is a whisker
First born we embed ourselves into the reality of the world
We grow strong thick and white
Only to eventually fade away into the abyss.
Valuable of reflection and resources at my own cost with no return
When the time comes
Moving valuable pieces and places around me
In the end
Not nearly as good, but it is what I took away from such a painting written in words.
If I wish to see
I must open my eyes
Must open my hands and release my death grip
on my assumptions
I must dial my perception filters back to zero
Must make the walls of my world transparent
I must be like water. . .
that the water in this lake is transparent
Yet holds the reflection of the sky
Nor capture the image of the flying geese
The reflection lasts only a moment
and then its gone
To truly see
I must be like water
I have a website titled amandialawrence.com . My very confusing brain could not figure out how to set certain items up on this platform so I created my own website. I would appreciate it if you followed it as well. I post on both but I do post on my main website more often than this one. Sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you.
Go away its a place to stay
when you have so much to say but no one to hear
No one is here
There’s nothing near
It is as I fear
Silence is the only frontier…
Okay you’ll talk to me
I always listen
I always see
But no one notices…
Reality what a beautiful place with a beautiful face and yet the soul within is decaying.
Tangled Twisted wrapped up around so many poisonous dreams.
Reality such a fine lady is never as she seems.
Tilting her paint brush she added one final touch to her painting.
A smile came across her lips as the painting reminded her of home.
Finding the painting perfect Portia signed her name into the corner.
As soon as she dotted the I the painting rippled as if a breeze blew past it just like at home. “Wow,” she whispered as a cloud moved across the baby blue sky of the painting.
“I knew you could do it,” growled a deep voice behind her.
Startled she turned and saw Rubyio, her master, wearing a very nasty grin. He had been watching her for a while.
The memory came to her every time she painted another portal, that was three years ago. At the time she was going to be sold to a man who lived in her old town. Now as she painted the waves upon the shore of Seward Portia knew she would never be able to go home again.