is the end something we see
something we fall into
like a dreamless night
do we fight the conclusion
papering the wall with shadows
is parting a just expense
our breaths used
some squandered
or salvaged for scraps
is the end something we see
hearing transient star light
blinding white silences
preemptive acceptance
of unseen faith
ushering ever onward
back to our beginnings
Clinging/sculpt
May you dream in many warm colors this night…
Clay sculpture done way, way back in high school circa 1979, and if memory serves she was nearly 3 feet in length and pretty darn heavy.
anntogether 
1979, my grad year from high scewl. heh… 😉 Cool sculpture, do you still have her?
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I graduated in 1981, ah, the good old years when kids wore clothes and smiled more 😉
Unfortunately, every sculpture I ever made broke apart. I wanted to sculpt my own way without knowing what I was doing. My pieces were too heavy and not thin where they should have been to balance the weight properly. I wish I still had this one – a few pics are all that remain…though I’m guessing she would have ended up in the attic 🙂
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Did you create that piece? It is very good! It almost seems as though the individual is in conflict with an external force. I’m not certain about “blinding white silence,” as I do not wish to experience that transition until it is my time to do so, but I have heard people saying that they believed that others who have transitioned from this life into the next knew that it was their time leave. I believe that it may be possible based upon some of their activity prior to leaving here.
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Hi Sean,
Yes, I sculpted this back in high school (seems like lifetimes ago). I can’t remember what moved me to sculpt her. I do remember her image appeared in my brain when I was thinking of trying my hand at – sculpting a hand.
This particular writing (I don’t call these poems because I’m really not a poet) has been on my mind of late, as someone close to me has terminal cancer. The descriptions are loosely based on things I’ve read or heard, but I guess we’ll all go our own way – of course – when it is our time to go…
Live long and in good health 🙂
AnnMarie
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Hi AnnMarie,
The sculpture is amazing! Yes, there are many accounts of the transition..but as you’ve said, “…when it is our time to go…”
Awesome work…and thought provoking!
Sean
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Thank you, you’re very kind.
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You’re welcome 🙂
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Gobsmacked, off WP.
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Does that mean Goodwhacked 😉
Thank you my friend.
Can’t get Nina off my mind of late.
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You’re hitting homeruns, my friend. I’m hitting pop flies.
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A caught popup wins games too! Remember now – I was co-captain of my hs softball team so I know what I’m talking about 🙂
Happy Writing Wednesday!
Darn, have to sub all day, darn…
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Have a great day at school, Miss! 🙂
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Fabulous fifth graders – it will be fun!
And now I’m off to my subbing beautification process, so I don’t scare the kiddies 🙂
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They’ll be enchanted, I’m sure, 🙂
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Your lady looks incredibly uncomfortable! Somehow I’m not surprised that you wanted to sculpt “your own way”…I am glad that you at least have photographs of her, even though she did not survive. Such a versatile talent you are. Hugs, Fawn
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I also made this tall rearing horse – but alas – reaching up on 2 legs, he never stood a chance.
Thank you for your kind words.
AM 🙂
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These are beautiful, the poem and the sculpture. 🙂
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Thank you, Steven. I truly appreciate.
annmarie
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