She flies and flies back into our arms

She flies and flies back into our arms.

This afternoon I spent a good portion of the day editing and ordering a set of pictures from our recent photo shoot. And, I decided to order this picture (to the left) on a canvas for Aaron's office.  It took quite some time to get the size right, without distorting the arms/hands at the bottom, etc. but, finally my persistent toggling about prevailed!

This was Aaron's favorite picture of the shoot; I think because it so aptly captures his relationship with Daphne -- one of flying, trying, giggling, tiny steps, new words, exhilaration, and letting go. Aaron's good at it, and Daphne can always sense how much her dad trusts her.  So, the photo that would be in his office on this fancy-dancy canvas would have to be more than just a picture of us all sitting around trying to re-create the Mona Lisa. Maybe that's what the literary life is all about -- being ok with the silliness, the dirt, the stains, the mishaps, the chipped tooth. In fact, more than ok. Embracing it and then waiting for it to fall back into our arms in all it's unpredictable and angst-filled splendor.  We welcome ourselves to the world over and over with the same feeling of delight, wonderment and fear!

Dedicated to Daffodil on her 2 Birthday

i like to see how you sleep

on your tummy

little head wedged in the corner

toes tucked under

one arm stretched out

   like you are giving a side hug

   to the invisible

   and comforting stillness

  

   the breathing in the next room

   slowly relaxing

   i too am slowly wedging

   into the night

 

ISLE: Literary Glories in Fruition Today

Ah, today is a very exciting day in our literary life.  Author in resident (number one), has published, officially published, yet again! 

This publication has been in the works for eons. I've heard many sighs coming from this author's lips as he anticipated his article would appear -- and yet had to wait. And, though I'd like to say that the waiting was the hardest part, it definitely wasn't.  The hardest part was the revisions.  Hunched over his little lap top, typing away, and as the prolific writer he is, never complaining of the developing carpel tunnel syndrome, achy back, or strained eyes (trifocals here we come).  

Yet it all paid off when the email came. Just a regular, non-assuming "ding" from the smart phone, followed by a gasp of unadulterated joy. It's there! 

Behold, the scribblings of a true writer, a true reader, a true lover-of-all things literary -- which means of course: those things worth living for.

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