I’ve heard it’s ok to glance at the past – as we need to – to examine our life, enabling us to change and to grow. This photo makes me stare.
It’s like pouring soap into bath water and watching the bubbles come to life. But my bath water is tar and the emergence of air is choked, dark and stagnant.
My father had danced down the aisle at my wedding – so glad to be rid of me.
Married in yellow ~ a borrowed dress.
I hate weddings.
These were the days, that I longed to go to college. How does one get to college? 1973 ~
I would read. A LOT
I would walk through the city, to the grocery store. My constant companion Pandora, keeping pace. She was my Florida mutt, that I had brought to New York. We strolled like friends, no leash involved. I am still amazed that she would sit outside, patiently awaiting my return, beer secured and ready for the walk back. Her space was a small green area – the back yard. Mine was a second floor, dingy flat, behind a door, with five locks. I never thought of bringing her inside.
I returned to Florida, with my dog, still by my side. School was a far off and close dream.
Pandora was led off by my, then husband. Never to return.
I was led down a tumultuous path of insanity.
Road hazards – hazardous wastes – a hap hazard existence.
Though my friend did not survive, I did.
I float to the surface, to the air and breath.
In the NOW.