Stories

July 4, 2013 - Wisdoms of Rose Away With The Birds

 

Wisdoms of rose bird days

Sometimes Rose couldn’t account for the hours in her day .

Although Rose meets each day with a slight brief, she often drifts off, leaving her with no recollection of time gone astray – and where she was when it went.  She relishes this sweet form of freedom and the fruitful outcomes that arise from times when she does nothing of great significance at all – except maybe concentrating on her breathing.  Long Live Rose.

Footnote:  In a world where the rush to do, to see, to be, is so overwhelming at times, Rose’s footsteps are calm ones to follow – along with her ‘away with the birds’ philosophy that defies the more uptight others view of this being laziness.

(Wisdoms of Rose and Clunk & Jam 2019 books.  Reposted from 2013).

April 5, 2013 - Wisdoms of Rose Mending Business

 

rose mending business

Rose never feared a broken heart – she’d set herself up nicely in the mending business.

Rose lives a relatively trouble free life due to her ability to make sound decisions about relationships and all matters of the emotional kind.  Rose appears unphased by the outcome of hurt because she is well practiced in the task of pain management.  She takes firm and full responsibility for herself, leaving the actions and reactions of others where they rightly belong – along with their wrongs.

Her handiness in the mending department ensures she is always fully engrossed in lap and mind, far beyond all sense of conventional time – and the complication of others.   Long Live Rose.

(Reposted from 2019.  Find Rose in her own pocket book and in Clunk & Jam book 2019.)

February 16, 2013 - Army of Ink Holding Books

 

 

Army of Ink 91 Book holder

 

Her heart leapt so impossibly loud it stole her every sense .

But it was always the book, held preciously close to chest, that caught and consoled her misbehaving mind.

(Clunk & Jam book).

 

October 16, 2012 - Army of Ink Hold Your Nose Moment

army of ink 92 hold your nose

It was a hold your nose situation.

Like getting out of bed in the morning … making a long put off phone call … taking the next step … or a difiicult one … venturing into unknown or familiar but rather not go places … facing a lurking fear … a dreaded occasion … but always, always well prepared for the consequences of her actions … or that which might be thrust upon her by those both, unexpected … and expected that could happen at any undesignated moment in time.  This made her relatively secure in the knowledge of all subsequent happenings.  Phew.  No wonder her head was spinning.

August 20, 2012 - Army of Ink Go Play On The Swings

 

 

army of ink go play on swings

 

Go Play On The Swings .

The want to ride way up high reveals much less.   A moment in the middle that can’t be held.  A view from above stolen from beneath.  I go PLONK.  Caught by the place where soles meet soil.   Much nicer than hanging by a longing for a lift.

This little soldier had a history of plonks.  Each time she played with someone she’d end up getting hurt, which left her wondering if she’d be better off never playing with anyone again.  One day, dumped in yet another plonk, too weary to bound from the stillness that forever taunted her, she sat.  And she sat.   And she sat.  It was in the sitting that she began to wonder if maybe her escape from the plonk would not come from never trusting again.  Maybe the answer lay in trusting herself.  Or perhaps playing only the games that held a balance.  And knowing when it was time to go home before it got too dark.

 

 

(Reposted from 2012.  Originally from handmade book, ‘Rock The Boat’, handwriting by Mags.  Now in Clunk & Jam book, 2019)

November 17, 2011 - Army of Ink Me Jane

 

army of ink me jane

Me Jane .  

Dangling in a moment of vulnerability, out of her jungle mind came a thought…3 thoughts actually…Could she make it without the BOy?  Did she have to take such a wild and dangerously dependent leap—after all?  And was it really that difficult and frightening to just let go?

This swinging ink has layer upon layer of meaning to sit and wonder about—like…. Is she really swinging up high or is this a trick?  Is her foot in fact, firmly planted on the ground?  Is she clinging for her life at the mercy of the rope (or the BOy), or has she taken a firm grip to put a stop all this swinging business?   And what is this swinging business about anyway?  Which way is she going?  Back?  Forward?  Nowhere right now?  Or has she finally landed in her very own spot?   Is the rope attached?  Is it all about to uncoil leaving her in a heap?   Or is it going to lift her up, whoosh her away from whatever it is she’s so afraid of right now?  To be continued no doubt …..