the heart of glass

A few years ago I claimed that 'reflection is overrated'. In part I take that back.

Lately I’ve been drawn in by the union of images that take place within sheets of glass. Mirrors are monogamous, they hold only one thing in mind at any time and think most highly of themselves. Whereas windows are gluey - constantly craving to stick things together in shiny collages.

Sadly I don’t have the photographic ability or equipment to properly capture these moments - and I don’t have much skill with a sharpened pencil either - so I'll have to make do with a few words - scattered and rearranged on the page and hoping to convey these momentary conjunctions.

what was lost

[a list inspired by the title of a novel by Catherine O’Flynn]

a silver ring set with a red stone - a blue military style jacket - a bucket full of memory - the first Feeder album - unbroken skin - the girl in the paddling pool - the smile in the plastic racing car - three months in the summer of 1993 - 8 years give or take - the taste of Malibu - your middle name - unquestioned trust - the desire for great heights - self censorship - the one who walks in the snow - a real wood floor - the lost boys - a duck and a bear - milk teeth - the desire to dye my hair - a pen that wrote with pale grey ink - your untorn first letter to me - our dogwood - a blonde hair halo - belief in the mythology of Father Christmas / Jesus Christ / The Queen (delete as desired) - a handful of Friday nights and Saturday mornings - the boy with the whitest smile - the cover of my first copy of ‘Dracula’ - our get out clauses - those amber incense cones - the child with the faraway eyes - the flexibility of youth - the need to write neatly - living anywhere above the ground floor - the chance to start again

haiga #10

haiga #9

[inspired by the latest prompt at one deep breath]

confessions #4 and #5

penny for your thoughts