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i moved where my heart had drifted off to long before. i live on a hill of hundred acres, where my dreams have merged with the view. it is quiet from machine noises yet loud with sounds of horses, dogs, cats chickens and ducks. nature is the true artist in resident and i am just her apprentice who often gets lost in her gaze. once and a while i travel back to cities and foreign places to put into photographs what i have learned, yet always, part of my heart is left on the hill..

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

the reader abandonned


there i was deep into the night my-living room feeling large like an armory, they left me. harry, penelope, charlotte they went off and lived happily ever after and did not turn around to see if i wanted to come along. It is as it always was for me and i am sure for many of you a time where you are coming close to the end of a book where you start to feel sad, not sad for the characters but for yourself somehow they invited you into their lives without objection. you smelled their cigarette as they lit it, you admired there dress you even swear you could taste the scone they where about to devour. you also cry for them and try to warn them. even when the book is put down you still think about them and can't wait to get back to them and you do. the end of the book always seems like the beginning of there lives without you in it...

2 comments:

dia said...

This is so true, You actually live hteir lives & then they move on & leave you standing there. This is why I re-read books so often to go back & spend some time with my friends.

Joetta M. said...

So true. As much as I want to get to the end and know the story, I am always said when the last page gets turned....