Your post struck me. Seeing connections between stories that are like metaphors feels like discovering hidden treasures that are unique. The ability to share a story that is relatable and inspiring in unexpected ways is a gift. Your story of loss of the fruit and the beauty in the bruised brokenness pierced into the grief I’m walking through w the recent loss of my mountain of a father. Then, your encouragement to dust off dreams we’ve been hoarding surrounded by inaction/procrastination but me and spurs me back to my writing and art. Thank you for sharing and creating connection toward better futures.
I love this and it’s so good to read your writing again. I remember my first trip to a mall when I was little—it was the first mall in Dallas and I went with my parents on a Friday night. And, oh, the falling ice cream. I could just feel that disappointment and then you turned it into art as well as the other “accidents.”
I love the idea of squished fruit pictures and salvaging beauty and savor from disaster.
I take pictures of dead birds, though I don’t really share them because a lot of people don’t like looking at dead things. But I find them hauntingly beautiful.
I love cherries, and if they weren’t squished, I might have picked them up, taken them home and given them a good wash. Terrible, right? But like your book, you had to drop and squish a few of your precious ideas in order to put the book together. I’ve done this with poems all too often. It’s fun that you collect pictures—a way to honor what was! Good luck with your endeavor!
I think you're braver than I am about dropped food. Although I ate my fair share of 'five-second-rule' Skittles back in the day. 😂 And thank you for the good wishes, Carole! 😀
Dear Petra,
Your post struck me. Seeing connections between stories that are like metaphors feels like discovering hidden treasures that are unique. The ability to share a story that is relatable and inspiring in unexpected ways is a gift. Your story of loss of the fruit and the beauty in the bruised brokenness pierced into the grief I’m walking through w the recent loss of my mountain of a father. Then, your encouragement to dust off dreams we’ve been hoarding surrounded by inaction/procrastination but me and spurs me back to my writing and art. Thank you for sharing and creating connection toward better futures.
Melinda, I continue to send hugs your way. ❤️ And thank you for the kind words. I’m so glad you’re encouraged to pick your dreams back up.
I love this and it’s so good to read your writing again. I remember my first trip to a mall when I was little—it was the first mall in Dallas and I went with my parents on a Friday night. And, oh, the falling ice cream. I could just feel that disappointment and then you turned it into art as well as the other “accidents.”
Thanks, LeeAnn! 😊
Welcome back!
I hope you can enjoy some ice cream to cool off 😉🍦
Thank you, Alli! And yes, I've been enjoying popsicles quite a bit lately. 😀
I love the idea of squished fruit pictures and salvaging beauty and savor from disaster.
I take pictures of dead birds, though I don’t really share them because a lot of people don’t like looking at dead things. But I find them hauntingly beautiful.
I always stop to honor the birds who have passed when I find them. Such fragile creatures. 🕊️
I love cherries, and if they weren’t squished, I might have picked them up, taken them home and given them a good wash. Terrible, right? But like your book, you had to drop and squish a few of your precious ideas in order to put the book together. I’ve done this with poems all too often. It’s fun that you collect pictures—a way to honor what was! Good luck with your endeavor!
I think you're braver than I am about dropped food. Although I ate my fair share of 'five-second-rule' Skittles back in the day. 😂 And thank you for the good wishes, Carole! 😀
It’s probably more than 5 seconds if you wash fruit off—so far I haven’t died. Food poisoning I’ve only gotten from restaurants and a cruise.😊