Post by anon4now on May 30, 2008 10:08:24 GMT -5
I wrote this today, after a break down last night, I started to think about it, and this was how it came out. Any opinions. Do I just confuse you? 
I was born with Pink. I just know it, because all my life I stayed away from it. But I know in my heart, at the beginning, my quilt started out Pink. Who knows when it started to change? I’m sure my mother could tell you. It had to be young, I have memories from when I was 2. I remember adding White, for the color of my beloved dog, Callie; and Brown for our horse, Raja. And Red, lots of Red, they called it The Red House, after all. Blue took over for a long time, I can still smell the pool in my dreams. Soon, I couldn’t get enough and I started adding more and more. Reds and Oranges for sunsets; Grey-White for the full moons; Yellows and Greens for friendships. Browns, and Purples for walks on the beach. I wove, and stitched, and added, replaced and removed. It provided shelter and offered comfort for friendships. I built forts with it, and slept with it every night. Then I was blessed with Baby Blue. I couldn’t get enough of Baby Blue. The Blue got darker and darker. It became the richest color Blue anyone has seen. I interlaced Scarlet and Gold, when I exchanged vows with my soul mate. I was over-joyed when bits of Pink started to show up. Pink darkened to the most vibrant Purple. Dark Blue, Gold and Purple become my favorites. Intertwining in the most beautiful patterns. Memories unrolling before my eyes. Swirls and shapes and story after story.
I’m so consumed with every detail of every color of my life. I weave and design and marvel at my creation. Hardly taking a moment to pause, I have a new idea, a new memory, a new experience. Blood, sweat and tears are embedded in every stitch. I make it look easy, but it’s not. It owns me, I can’t stop. And I know, deep in my heart, if I look up even once to enjoy it, I will see the past unraveling. I will see the Dark Blue tugging at the seams. I know the Gold is starting to fade. No matter how often I add new colors, my favorites are overwhelming. At times I feel I have only one string to frantically work with. I delicately stitch a new creation, terrified the string will snap. I ignore the end of the string, I refuse to look forward. I’m constantly patching holes and hanging on to old patterns. I’m torn between wowing the onlooker, and just keeping steady my hand as I continue. I desperately want to look and show pride in my work, but too scared I’ll be disappointed and feel I have failed. I would call for help, but I’m too busy to breath. I wonder why no one sees the truth, the tears, the fear, the desperation. I worry I will lose one of my favorite colors; I’m terrified to add anything new. I dream of my Orange Sunsets, my Blue Water and my Grey-White Moon, but I never seem to find the time to add them. I just keep on stitching, Dark Blue, Gold and Purple.
I was born with Pink. I just know it, because all my life I stayed away from it. But I know in my heart, at the beginning, my quilt started out Pink. Who knows when it started to change? I’m sure my mother could tell you. It had to be young, I have memories from when I was 2. I remember adding White, for the color of my beloved dog, Callie; and Brown for our horse, Raja. And Red, lots of Red, they called it The Red House, after all. Blue took over for a long time, I can still smell the pool in my dreams. Soon, I couldn’t get enough and I started adding more and more. Reds and Oranges for sunsets; Grey-White for the full moons; Yellows and Greens for friendships. Browns, and Purples for walks on the beach. I wove, and stitched, and added, replaced and removed. It provided shelter and offered comfort for friendships. I built forts with it, and slept with it every night. Then I was blessed with Baby Blue. I couldn’t get enough of Baby Blue. The Blue got darker and darker. It became the richest color Blue anyone has seen. I interlaced Scarlet and Gold, when I exchanged vows with my soul mate. I was over-joyed when bits of Pink started to show up. Pink darkened to the most vibrant Purple. Dark Blue, Gold and Purple become my favorites. Intertwining in the most beautiful patterns. Memories unrolling before my eyes. Swirls and shapes and story after story.
I’m so consumed with every detail of every color of my life. I weave and design and marvel at my creation. Hardly taking a moment to pause, I have a new idea, a new memory, a new experience. Blood, sweat and tears are embedded in every stitch. I make it look easy, but it’s not. It owns me, I can’t stop. And I know, deep in my heart, if I look up even once to enjoy it, I will see the past unraveling. I will see the Dark Blue tugging at the seams. I know the Gold is starting to fade. No matter how often I add new colors, my favorites are overwhelming. At times I feel I have only one string to frantically work with. I delicately stitch a new creation, terrified the string will snap. I ignore the end of the string, I refuse to look forward. I’m constantly patching holes and hanging on to old patterns. I’m torn between wowing the onlooker, and just keeping steady my hand as I continue. I desperately want to look and show pride in my work, but too scared I’ll be disappointed and feel I have failed. I would call for help, but I’m too busy to breath. I wonder why no one sees the truth, the tears, the fear, the desperation. I worry I will lose one of my favorite colors; I’m terrified to add anything new. I dream of my Orange Sunsets, my Blue Water and my Grey-White Moon, but I never seem to find the time to add them. I just keep on stitching, Dark Blue, Gold and Purple.
I was about to conquer the world but then I got distracted by something shiny.
