nauticgrrl

i don't know the source of this photo but i do know it was taken in the hours before katrina made landfall... the low drone of a fly catches my attention. it very nearly comes to a halt mid air. i pause for a second to ponder how it maintains its lift with so slow and cumbersome a flight. next to me the ice in my sweet tea shifts and adjusts with a tinkle. a cat uncurls stretches rolls lazily and recurls on its other side. a paw now masks its eyes from the late lowering sun. i feel a trickle of sweat rolling down my back. cold droplets fall from glass and tease my hot skin as i lift and drink. i sit here dazed for a moment. distracted from writing. in a trance. eyes fixed and following the crooked “come hither” finger of her sultry summer afternoon. i wonder if in another time i did not bow to her. dedicate my soul to her. become her slave. i have lived and died many times before. still i come back to her. i am possessed. owned. was i an explorer seeking new adventure? pe...

this blinking cursor. it is hypnotic. i stare at it but still words do not come. i have no idea when they will or which ones... i was given a gift...yes one of words. as a teen i did not recognize it. my mother encouraged me...prodded me in fact to write a particular story about our family. i was in my junior year of high school. she took it and submitted it to a writing contest. the monies from this payed for my first year of college. it was not until i started grad school that i realize how powerful and wonderful an endowment i held. this weekend marks a year ago that i began to write here on myspace. so great was my need that i did so daily up until a few months ago. it is through this platform that i have been privileged to read the words of so many other wonderful writers. sometimes i have been asked to read a piece or two. last night was a special request from a dear one. it occurred during a phone call. the request in fact was to allow the author herself...

used to be i could create a whistle out of most anything...an empty cardboard candy box, a blade of grass, my two thumbs pressed together.  i hadn’t thought about that in a very long time.  i gave it a go when i saw a small empty dot box on the desk at work.  i failed to make any sound at all and i couldn’t seem to get my thumbs in the right position either.  surely there is no practical adult reason to blow through my two thumbs and whistle...yet as a kid i loved the sound i could make...from just about anything.  today i wondered if it was just childish nonsense.  used to be i held hands...with my parents, with my siblings and with my girlfriends as we skipped down the street.  there was a lot of handholding in my family.  we held hands with every family prayer and always finished with a hand squeeze that travelled around the circle.  it was an “i love you” sort of ritual.  in the fall just after school my mom and i would ho...