Saturday, October 24, 2015

72 Roses


I never considered milestones much at all in my younger years. Well... wait. Who am I kidding? I did. And do. My recent brushes with loss have made me reluctant to measure such things as they exist lately, though. I don't want to think about time. I don't want to think about the past. I don't want to constantly sift through the boxes of photographs that comprise my personal memories. Everything is just a dream.

My Sagittarius nature finds terrible gravity in the unlikeliest of places (that is to say--almost everywhere). Everything is on fire


     let's get


                                   to the point.

Ian just realized lately that I am incorrigibly and obnoxiously blunt to an absolute fault. Especially before a good full moon. These are the things we learn about each other as time moves on. It wouldn't kill him, necessarily, to research my birth sign. Such sorts of enlightenment might be mitigated with a tad bit of curiosity. These are my complaints. Not bad.

14 years we have been married. What does it mean to be married to someone for 14 years? Days pass riddled with just as much worry, responsibility, and drudgery as ever. Yet there is a sweetness too. Have I matured since that fateful day? Yes. In ways I don't care to admit and in ways I am quite glad of. And he still looks at me like I am a piece of chocolate cake he'd like to eat for breakfast, lunch, supper and dessert and though I used to hate that I am finding I am beginning to find great solace in my husband's appetite for... well? Me. For me. It's good to know where you are loved. And why.

I've realized that somehow, from within and then without, our living space is slowly transforming into some kind of romantic art space that speaks of feminine whispers and the soft vibes of all that flows from inside of me to the rest of this world. My houseplants are verdant and lush. My floors are clean. My pets are sound asleep on the chair beside me. Peace. How I love a good breadth of peace.

I used to think I was all sharp edges and venom. I now see that I am all soft edges and intensity. It just flows. It flows from me naturally and I daresay, all these years, I would have been a much calmer person had the rest of the world given me a chance to breathe.

The contrast between what I have known and what I am beginning to learn about myself are gradual and beautiful. It must be taken in slowly and it must be consumed like a very fine wine else the subtleties are completely missed.

Incidentally, I am on my third round of roses (72 roses, to be exact) and I am still STILL working on this rose painting. I measure my life not in days, not in anniversaries, but in roses. Lots and lots of roses.

Slow it down.




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