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Frozen Windows

The condensated glass gives a shimmer effect to everything beyond and my apron is wet with soap suds that seep through and feel damp on my skin. Yet I am too caught up in the way the cold air outside bewitches me into believing that it is gentle and kind to care about wet aprons and I want to see what nature throws at us and not as it has been perceived all week as something harsh and difficult to navigate. From the kitchen sink it looks almost beautiful and frozen trees remind me of Paris in March when my breath danced from me in clouds of espresso and croissants overpriced but wonderful eaten at a pavement cafe on the Champs-Elysees.

Rodin would love this view. It is raw and naked and beautifully etched. He might have stood beside me and with glass of wine in hand unlatched the window to allow the night in. I am too safe. Too tired but still I muster up some hope for what I see or want to see. I have not lost that - or so I assure myself that I have not. Maybe I lie.

The cold air encourages nudity in oneself. I strip away the layers even though I am bundled in fleece and thermal, my head bound in wool. I contemplate the movement of the life around me. Dogs tiptoe through the snow and slide and run to the back door as if they ache to be in. Muffled thoughts flow through my mind and all I can remember is something like a warm ocean where shards of ice hang like seaweed and I am moving through trying my utmost to avoid them and yet they seem to multiply as I pass and soon I become just another icicle and its nice because I am part of the others and once, just once the sun comes out and melts one or two of the ice masses and a little hope abounds. Still, the ice is beautiful. It shines. It glitters and shimmers, it is smooth to the touch, just like a Rodin. Rodin would have liked to see the shimmer tonight. We would have stood there like two souls and I would have said, but you're Rodin and he would have shrugged and said, we are all the same Mary, you and me and all the other pieces of people who don't want to be frozen and he would have touched my arm and melted the frozen parts, the parts I thought I never needed anymore.

6 Comment count
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to see you posting again.
Although a bitter-sweet reverie.
Thank you, Mary.

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Me too.

Me too.

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Sharon, Jitu, dearest

Sharon, Jitu, dearest friends, how nice to see you and to know that you are still OUT there. I am in the thick of exams and a frozen countryside in more ways than one and yet your visit has thawed me, made me want to reach out - into the beyond. best, mx

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Spine tingling, Mary!

I read this the day after it was written. I wanted to say something profound and how deeply this post affected and impressed me.Life got in the way!

You are so creative and talented!

Merry Christmas to you and your family!

Mary Walsh

You were a nice gift in 2010!

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Just getting back to you

Just getting back to you Mary. Life does get in the way of the most meaningful things in life = thanks for taking the time to comment. best, m

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Frozen in Time

So good to hear from you Mary, I trust that you are on a bit of a break right now...exams over, and a chance to relax and enjoy the holidays.
In Africa, the internet is hit or miss...so I've been hit or miss.
Merry Christmas to you and yours.