At sea
July 1, 2008 at 19:29
Seascape Number One
She was restless, then tense, riding a wave of emotion pushing up and out of her chest.
Her head falls forward. She covers her face with her hands.
Nothing to do but cry now. There's no turning back.
Her throat is constricted. She can't swallow any more disappointment. She's full.
Full and yet empty. The great paradox.
In the last year her life has been dismantled piece by piece, and each time she's been close to rebuilding it, teetering on the cusp of normality, Fate has knocked her down again.
She is a woman drowning in slow motion, bobbing to the surface but never catching her breath. She is out of her depth.
She is weary of the relentless waves, the currents pulling her out to sea, the loss of footing, the salt burning her eyes.
She is tired. So very tired.
Not just tired of dealing with her misfortunes, but tired of giving herself away, of tossing her words into the wind, of pouring her time and talent into a sandy pit, of watching the tide rise and erase her.
The water is getting higher.
She is stuck treading water, always waiting for a sea change.
Waiting for children.
Waiting for things to be clean.
Waiting for things to be fixed.
Waiting for rescue.
Waiting for a message.
Waiting for a reason.
Waiting for approval.
Waiting for gratitude.
Waiting to be seen.
Waiting to be loved.
Waiting for Meaning to throw her a lifeline and pull her to shore.
July 2, 2008


Reader Comments (14)
Yes, oh yes.
I hope it helps some, to express yourself the way you do.
"Not just tired of dealing with her misfortunes, but tired of giving herself away, of tossing her words into the wind, of pouring her time and talent into a sandy pit, of watching the tide rise and erase her"
is something I have felt many times over, and in reading your words my thought was "oh my god, someone else gets it".
I like the thickness of it. The liberal use of the brush and the palette knife I am guessing?
What a great concept and a unique writing exercise. I love to see crosspollination between creative types, each inspiring the other. You ought to see if the art department will do the exercise in reverse--taking your students' work and translating it into visual art.
The seascape "feels" like a trip to the ocean--the sounds of waves against rocks, the seawind, the smell of salt, the heat....
Now I will ask you what I ask myself all the time.
What are you waiting for?
It's all in you. Right in you.
Believe in you. I believe in you.