Thursday, October 1, 2009
"Inhale. Let the Universe Support You."
(A message on Facebook from Sonia Choquette, a noted psychic/healer). My husband is a fan of hers on Facebook and I am just a fan period, and he passed this message on to me. FaceBook continues to be a way to send spiritual vibes out to the Universe, so I feel its usefulness as a positive communicator.
I went to my writing classes yesterday (afternoon and evening class). The last week's assignment had been to write something using the words: kitchen, destiny, fate, dreams, castles. These words can either all be in the story or just one if we so choose. I believe I put all of them into a story I wrote yesterday morning (yes, I always feel resistance and drag my feet, waiting till the last minute).I didn't plan the writing at all but felt my intuition guide my words, which flowed with many twists and turns. So here is the beginning excerpt from the story:
Castles in the Sky But Dreamless
Smoke filled lthe air from floor to ceiling, and I felt like I was in a fog as I stared through the haze. The atmosphere around me seemed conducive to my brooding state of mind, as I sat in the kitchen of my castle, dreaming of my fate. This was nothing new, the dreaming, that is. Nor the foggy mind that not even car headlights could permeate. Then I laughed sarcastically. Here I was in an exquisite kitchen, a place Martha Stewart or Emeril would die for and yet, I had never laid a hand on any item adorning the room. Recipe books lined a long marble topped counter, and their dusty aged covers spoke volumes about my lack of cooking interest. I never cooked in my kitchen, but would just stare around at the shiny polished pots and pans, marveling at their pristine qualities. I would see still life arrangements in my mind and feel the urge to paint the copper and silver items. But to prepare something to eat, never did that thought cross my mind. Nearby sat a huge kettle, and smoke continued to rise in circular fashion from it. No, there was no soup cooking away for hours on end. Just some strange brew made from potions I had gathered from the eccentric woman who lived in the dark house down the road. Why do you not light up your abode? It seems dark and ominous, i’d often ask her. She’d look at me with piercing black eyes and any more words I’d thought to utter would be immediately swallowed back down. That day she had held out her hand and several shiny objects glistened there. The objects had hopped, yes hopped over onto my own palm and now they lay boiling away in the pot nearby. Would I drink the brew, I pondered? Not while I was alone. For if it was poison and I lay dying, only Spook the cat would be able to nestle me out of my stupor. In a corner of the kitchen the cat was dosing, tail twitching in dream state, a purr emitting softly from pink pursed lips. Nope, Spook I could not depend on.
The woman in the story undergoes transformation as the story goes on, but it is implied rather subtly. I find myself wanting to write fantasy stories where lessons can be learned. We shall see where I go with my writings. And yes, images are floating in my head begging to be sketched or painted, to accompany the text, although Spook the Cat depicted above may already have a head start. I just added scribble paint to Spook's eyes a few minutes ago giving them a 3D effect. As the eyes are still drying, I shall perhaps expose Spook #2 in a future post. Creative license, don't you just love it?
As always, I welcome your comments on this story excerpt or anything else you feel like chatting about! And remember to breathe, for the universe is always there for support!