I sliced my foot open on a barnacle this morning. Don’t worry, not too bad. Hydrogen peroxide is in my toiletry bag. I’ve been playing with video cameras underwater, 360 cameras that make me appear to be at play on a tiny planet all to myself. It’s fantastic fun. The video play is the escape I need from all the writing I’m doing. Hours of writing every morning from 9am-1:30pm is a typical window. I fill it with coffee and fantasy, journaling, typing, digging deeper in my memory, leaning into the story to be even more honest. I think I could write from sunrise to sunset. It flows so effortlessly for me. For health and balance, I take the last sip of brown from the coffee cup, pack up my pen and jump on the scooter. Off to the gym!
I’m swimming in words; reading and writing them. I feel a distinction between present moment, fantasy, past, and flashback as I go throughout my time. Time is playing with me as I write with it in mind. Writing has mostly been real for me, presence. I didn’t see the appeal of creative writing, storytelling for many years. I only wanted to be here. Composing music and the painting were my playtime in my imagination, my escape into another realm. Now, I’m tasting how to tap into similar satisfaction, a creative flow in writing by inventing a world.
Diving and scooter driving are two activities I enjoy to break from the wordplay. It’s the sensation of smooth air or water rolling over my skin. In the ocean the water caresses every inch of my body just as the wind attempts to as I slide through the air on a scooter. The air and the water, when they completely envelop me feel almost identical. It’s a bold statement and I’ll make it…this smooth rush over my skin, a sensation of being held, massaged, surrounded by the elements is my favorite feeling in the universe. I can’t get enough of it.
If I burned alive and the heat didn’t hurt me, would the flames lick my body softly the way the water flows over me, the way the wind caresses me, the way the earth holds me down when I bury myself inside her? Do all the elements know how to give me the same pleasure?
love & rainbows,
Cha Wilde