Moving Forward

It was a slow month, and I fell off the wagon a few times with some sluggish days. My thoughts have been like ants scurrying from a flooded anthill. But I still had one of my strongest days, thanks to my competitive perseverance and my buddy’s taunts. Although I may not have progressed as far as I would have wanted; amidst all the turmoil, I still clocked 384.12kms, which is like running from my seaside home to the crystal aquamarine waters of the Rockies. I have gained a little more clarity in the last two days, and so I will continue forward rebuilding to maintain my head above water. 

Until then, stay safe, stay kind ♥️.

Heart of Stone

The Big Bad Wolf has nothing on Rolf Lovett, the antihero in my story. It’s been a challenge to write amidst the uncertainty of my world. I forced myself to put my hands to the keyboard to complete my short story for a contest closing tonight. And so, I thought I’d take this fleeting inspiration to add a few words here since I have somewhat fallen off the blog earth since February. Disillusionment and rose-coloured glasses were to blame for my abscondment. I am proud to maintain a perhaps naïve vision of the kindness I see in others. The problem is, that with that, the reality of malevolence in someone often knocks the wind out of my sails.

But, as the old saying goes, bad luck happens in threes. So, what started with hopeful poor judgement and subsequent twofold hardships are perhaps a signal that my misfortune has come full circle. If my story is any kind of hopeful beacon, threes have a way of overcoming the wolf.

Zebrafish

We take an unknown leap when we fall in love; trusting the care of our heart to another person.

This month I had the prompt to write a love story from my online writing group. The assignment was to choose one of the 6 senses: touch, sight, smell, sound, taste, or magic. We had to write about a character whose sense we chose is heightened or diminished. We needed to explore how their distorted sense affects them or those around them? And we could make it a love story... This was well within my wheelhouse since love and relationship stories are my passion. I also decided that I wanted to play on the current themes of how people meet that differs from when I was growing up.

I concentrated on sound since it is a sense that I don’t appreciate in the context of love or give a tremendous amount of thought to, but it is something that I imagine could confuse someone's feelings. I remember as a child I went to camp and had a tremendous crush on a counsellor whose speech was dysarthric or apraxic. It made me wonder how a love story incorporating that auditory dissonance in contemporary times might play out. 

“His voice was distinctively him, my Zebrafish. The absence of the alveolar trill of the dropped Rs in my name, and his soft sweet drawl pulled the corners of my mouth into a smile.”

There were so many threads that came together to weave this story of mine, and it took a lot to imagine the reality of my character. Not to mention, speech can be difficult to describe. But, I wanted to give myself a challenge. So I donned my academic hat and dove deep into the research of learning a new glossary of terms. In our day and age of texting and digital culture, I thought to explore the auditory experience of a relationship in the context of our current modalities of communication would make for an interesting love story.

I'd been doing some edits on my novel and took a break to work on my monthly writing group assignment. I was feeling like I wanted to give my novel’s protagonist some sort of hope. My novel ends dismally and so this little piece also felt like it could be an epilogue of sorts for my own peace of mind... I doubt I have more to say about the short story to actually make it a sequel to my novel.

“… delighting my tympanic membrane like a gentle caress that would linger along its journey deep within me… his words would bounce around inside me until they’d find their final resting place in the warming of my heart.”

One of my writing group members mentioned the dissociation we sometimes have when meeting a radio personality in person. All these little threads came together to craft Zebrafish; a story about a broken-hearted girl who finds love and learns to trust again despite all these auditory obstacles. 

My short was very well-received and I am always humbled by the compliments on my prose. However, so far the male love interest in my novel, let's call him Joe, is not well-liked. I have woven my female protagonist into a few stories outside the novel and her other male counterparts are always better received than Joe. I am going to have to start sharing some of the wooing passages to get my readers to fall in love with Joe just as they have fallen in love with my Zebrafish. 

Perhaps, I took a leap with Joe and was blinded by love myself... 

Kindness of Strangers

My mom posted an image this past week of one of those rare people that cross your path through life if you are lucky. Sadly, we’d only just found out that he’d passed away. I first wrote to him on this day four years ago. In 2016, I was lucky enough to reconnect with a fellow from years ago that worked in the same real estate office as my mother. I remember him from the office when I would stop in to see my mom, from pictures of them together and from the time my mother hosted a work party at our house. But in actuality, I did not know him beyond those brief interactions.

I was in a tough time in my life in 2016, a lot of indecision, insecurity and uncertainty surrounded me. A few friends had mentioned that they loved Greece, and it looked beautiful. It was also a warm and a welcome sunny destination from the remaining grey that lingered above me. 

I remember writing to my mom to ask about her friend George. He had returned to live in Greece years ago, and I thought he may be the perfect person to contact for info about his home country. My mom gave me his address and told me to send him an email, and so I did. Little did I know that that first email would lead me on a journey that would renew my spirit in so many ways...

My letter to George was a simple introduction to who I was as a reminder and some requests for places to visit, affordable places to stay, if he knew any, and his recommendations for what I should see of his country. I only had about ten days so there was a lot I couldn’t do, but before I knew it he responded with such enthusiasm and had planned my entire stay. He coordinated with one of his good friends and his cousin on one of the Greek Islands. I remember receiving his response and thinking, “Well, I guess I’m going to Greece!”

The gesture overwhelmed me and it was a relief of sorts to have someone take over. The only thing I had to do was to buy my plane ticket. In the weeks approaching my trip, George sent me all kinds of fascinating history lessons about the country. We wrote back and forth for about two months before I arrived. He had a genuine love for Greece, and his passion enticed me to learn more about the place. His enthusiasm was contagious. 

He’d connected me with a friend of his in Athens that would show me around and his cousin in Santorini who would be my island guide. I was so excited about the adventure but a little apprehensive as I was sure it would be all too good to be true. But it was true... Even with my early morning flights, when I mentioned I would find an airport hotel, George insisted I stay at his apartment and had made sure that his friend in Athens would take me to meet my flights. So here I was, ticket in hand, his pad in Athens and a taste of the Greek Islands on the horizon.

My trip to Greece is the best trip I have ever taken. And I owe it all to a lovely human who’s pure kindness and generous soul made it possible. His friend and cousin went above and beyond anything I could imagine. They’d pick me up in the morning and drive me to countless sights throughout the day.

I remember how I mentioned how I loved urban art and whilst in Athens, his friend spent the evening hunting for art until we found some beautiful murals. I was ready to throw in the towel, but he was insistent about satisfying my original request. We ended up in fabulously colourful back alleys; places I wouldn’t have been wise to explore alone. I remember how we serendipitously finished the evening in a little gallery out of the way that had one of the most splendid exhibitions of mural art.

There are so many glorious memories I have of my time in Greece and, would have loved to visit George’s town but it was too far to reach in the little time I had so he had suggested Santorini. I had planned to return to Greece again, but by that time George had fallen ill. I never heard back from him, but I hope he knew what a cherished set of memories he’d given me. There aren’t many altruistic people that you come across in life, and when you do, they’re a treasure…