the power of words - they can make you, break you, or take you. they are amazing things and way too often (lately) i have lost the ability to make words work for me. i've talked too long and have run out of words so i retreat behind photography. it's not that i don't have words...i have too many. they jumble, scramble, shimmy and shutter to be released and then the door slams shut. tight. tighter than tight. and i resist the urge to make a joke. so i won't. today i dreamed of tybee island and a sweet little mermaid cottage and i wanted to be there. iwasthisclosetogoingbutichangedmymind. at the last minute i pulled back and was practical.
too often i said words that i wished i could pull back in my mouth and swallow the bitter anise flavored barbs of hate...envy...regret... but i didn't. i allowed them to spew forward and splash. over the landscape of my life. and my regret gave birth to little demons of shame and blame. the wonder twins of low self esteem. so i used the only weapon i have - shoved them in a closet and locked it tight. some days that closet feels overly full and threatens to pop open. can you have a estate sale for demons?
instead of feeding them i've been starving them by weaving together positive thoughts and prayers. they hate that stuff - it's liver and onions to them...or perhaps a meal of rubarb, mustard and sweetbreads. quite nasty. and they shiver in their tiny little pointy toed boots and kick at me...but miss. i use my butterfly net to capture pretty little words - etheral, lovely, gorgeous, lush, pleasant, abundance, blissful, joyous, happy, sheer, phenominal, and so they go. these are sparkly and elusive at times. but the fun is in the chase - right?
and i hope soon i won't have the taste of anise in my mouth. that words will taste like warm salty breezes off the coast of a tropical island. or like a pastry in paris. or a glass of wine in tuscany...or something perfect and unsullied. though i'm sure from time to time there will be a bit of licorice there, no one really wants to be polly perfect all the time. do they? polly can be a bit of a bore. i would rather be her rather funny, slightly loose with a smidge of wicked, and tangishly sweet cousin - paulette.