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 A new blog to contain answers to prompts |
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Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas " became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one. Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.  |
| Prompt: "Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light," said Theodore Roethke. What do you think he meant and can this keeping the light in roots apply to human beings? ----- I think Roethke must have meant that rightness and light-giving elements exist at the core of all life. When plants are in soil, they have to deal with the wind, rain, darkness, etc. Still they hold the energy and memory of the sunlight inside them. Applied to us people, this idea points to inner goodness, hope, and resilience. Even when life becomes difficult, when we experience disappointment, loss, or hardship, there is often a quiet place within us that still remembers kindness, joy, and love. I believe in us greatly from this point of view. I believe we all carry inside ourselves the ability to stay strong and bloom again. If this weren't so, how could we heal, forgive, and grow? Nothing is perfect in life. Nothing is guaranteed. There is no perfect condition. Yet, we are resilient and we find ways to heal and rise again. This is similar to plants and flowers pushing upward through the soil toward the sun. We push upward, too, because we have faith, courage, creativity, a sense of purpose and above all, resilience. Our earlier experiences must have something to do with our resilience, also. Our experiences of love and guidance from others such as family or teachers and moments of beauty, all help us greatly. These are in addition to the talents, kindness, and wisdom we might have been born with and what we have encouraged within ourselves...no matter what life has thrown our way! After all, I believe in us, in our resilience, and in the hopeful message this quote is now offering us. . |
| Prompt: Looking "I try to avoid looking forward or backward, and try to keep looking upward." Charlotte Bronte What do you think this quote is about and in what ways does it apply to you? -------- Although this quote starts with "Looking forward or backward," its real message is in the idea of looking upward, which to me, suggests hope, faith, and a higher purpose. It means improving oneself, keeping one's values intact, and maintaining a spiritual awareness. So, instead of being trapped by yesterday or worrying about tomorrow, I can lift my thoughts toward growth, gratitude, and meaning. Yet, even if the quote is keen on the idea of living in the present while keeping positive thoughts, I have to ask, "Why is looking back being looked down upon?" In my case, I hope I have learned a great deal from my past and I appreciate that. This could be impractical, of course, if looking back produces excess guilt or nostalgia. Well, it doesn't for me. I understand the part where guilt is due, but past is past and I have learned from it. I have learned quite a bit from my own mistakes, in fact. As to nostalgia, what's wrong with it? Best writings come from our remembrances even if we don't actually mention them and talk about them scene by scene, word by word. Concerning the future, who knows? I'm just too old to worry about it, but I do worry about my country's eagerness in butting into other countries' affairs and getting into wars, if for not myself but for the future of my countrymen and women. I do hope, however, my anxiety will be for nothing and we will all succeed to appreciate this planet that was gifted to us to live in. Either way, while the past can teach valuable lessons and the future is uncertain, looking up while living in the present is a powerful thought, and I take it as a guide for personal happiness. In any case, I hope and pray all our tomorrows will lead us toward much loftier thoughts while directing us to better, nobler, and more hopeful times. |
Prompt: March Weather “It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.” Charles Dickens, Great Expectations How is the weather in March treating you where you are, this year? --------- Hahaha! Anything weird may have something to do with South Florida and this March is no exception. Anyhow, in itself, March is a transition month when winter and spring always battle it out, and it always surprises, no matter in which part of the country I've ever lived. Last night, here, it rained some and it is a relief since the city's water reservoirs need every single drop, at the moment. Then, today, in the early morning, I needed a sweater. At this time while I'm writing this, I'm in short sleeves and shorts. It is very possible I'll have to turn on the AC in the mid-afternoon. Daytime we're in the seventies to eighties, but the temperature falls at night. It could be somewhere between 40 to 60 some degrees. For up north, it was said that, when the warm air started to push in, cold air would push back. This resulted in the March winds. Yet, I don't live up north anymore, and our winds stay in the winter months, and late summer to fall season, when the hurricanes threaten. We might, however, get a few occasional short-lived gusts or breezes. Going back to our AC and heating uses, it is possible that we'll to go from turning the heat on to using the AC within the same day, and this will keep happening. It is like our weather here is having a kiddie tantrum or some kind of a hysteria, while smiling at the same time, and not only in March, either. |
| Prompt: Reedsy Prompts has an interesting one this week. Write a story with 1000 words or less but since this is a blog post let's try under 300 words. The prompt I'm choosing is a combination of two prompts--- tell us about someone's life that doesn't go as planned while they're on a plane or train. I know all of us in Blog City are talented.. let's see what you can do. ------------ The Detour Seat 14A, window. Daniel Mercer settled down on his seat, this Thursday morning, after he boarded Flight 417 to Chicago. His goal was to attend a job interview that could move his life forward, and this was his plan. Daniel had always liked plans. His life was built on them: calendars, reminders, neat folders labeled with the future he expected to live. When the engines hummed to life, Daniel opened his folder once more, reviewing notes about the company. Everything felt organized, predictable, safe. Just the way he liked it. Thirty minutes into the flight, the captain’s voice came loud and heavy through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, due to severe weather in Chicago, we’ll be diverting to Minneapolis.” A ripple of groans moved through the cabin. Daniel stared out the window. Minneapolis? His interview was in four hours. His careful schedule crumbled in that instant. He tried calling the company, but there was no signal. For the first time in years, he had absolutely no control over what happened next. The elderly woman sitting next to him asked kindly, "“Important trip?” “Job interview,” Daniel sighed. “Or at least, it was.” She smiled gently. “Life has a funny way of editing our plans.” They began talking, then. Her name was Maggie. She had once been a music teacher, she told him, and she was traveling to visit a granddaughter she hadn't met yet. For the next two hours they shared stories, laughter, and the small bags of airline pretzels. By the time the plane touched down in Minneapolis, Daniel felt strangely calm. His phone buzzed as soon as they reached the gate. A message from the company appeared. "Due to weather, today’s interviews are postponed. We’ll conduct them virtually next week." Daniel laughed out loud. Maggie patted his shoulder while she was walking with him. “See? The story isn’t over yet.” Daniel nodded, looking around the busy airport. For once, he had no plan, but somehow, that felt like the beginning of something. Now, until the next flight back, what could Minneapolis offer him for this night? . |
| Prompt: Have fun with these random words: land, myth, duty, duke, requirement, denial, number, document, bush, and normal. ------------ Here's a story-poem, so to speak.   Counting Sheep Some said a *duke once lived there, on the edge of a quiet *land, where hills leaned against the sky and the wind often told stories older than maps, and people spoke of *myth, *normal for them, though what's normal can be iffy, for the duke lived not in a castle of gold, but in a small stone house behind a crooked *bush of wild roses, a life, almost unusual for he counted his sheep, carrying under his arm, a worn leather *document and not minding the whispers of the villagers who claimed of a *requirement cast upon him a *duty of sorts from long ago; a promise with a *number signed and sealed by a king whose name has now slipped into myth, his decree saying the duke must remain there guarding the sheep, the land, and its silence, and when people asked him, "Why stay here alone?" the duke smiled in gentle *denial as if the question was far from the truth; then, maybe it was, for some promises are meant to be lived and not to be explained, just like the story the wind repeats through the branches of the Duke's rose bush. |
| Prompt: What does it mean to be authentic? Write about this in your Blog entry today. ----------- The question for anyone to ask here, IMHO, is: "Was there ever a time I surprised or disappointed myself with my own behavior?" If the answer is yes, whether such stuff happened only once or it keeps happening, how can a person who surprises even himself or herself can be really 100% authentic? Most of us human beings work from who we think we are or who are expected to be. This may be because we only have a half-knowledge of ourselves. How could this imperfect knowledge of ourselves lead to perfect authenticity? On the other hand, authenticity is not about false knowledge of oneself or our adaptation to who we are expected to be. So, at times, to be really authentic is asking the impossible from oneself. Therefore, authenticity is not about perfection but about honesty. It means writing with our own voice, making choices that match our values, and acting and talking according to our true feelings and thoughts. Then, what about the fact that this world is full of expectations, putdowns, and comparisons? Doesn't this make authenticity very difficult? From early childhood on, we the people are trained and expected to fit in, to behave, to dress, to think, and even to dream in ways to gain approval. Over the years, who knows which parts of ourselves are real and which parts, in our subconscious, are shaped to please others and gain approval? Yet, impossible though it may seemingly be, authenticity has its own quiet power. Others sense people who tilt more toward to being themselves, on the more genuine part of the scale. In general, people who are more authentic have more courage as they do not try to impress. They try to be truthful. This is because they have finally begun to understand that living behind a mask is tiring and unnecessary. The freedom of being oneself is more valuable than approval from others. Still, I don't think anyone can be 100% authentic. I mean, who in the world can erase all the input into their psyches by their families, backgrounds, education, etc.? Anyhow, when we come right down to it, when and if we can align our inner self and our outer life, we become more authentic. Then, our thoughts, feelings, and actions match more often, and life begins to have a sense of harmony. We may not please others much, but we gain an internal peace from knowing that we are living truthfully. That is, as truthfully as we know how. |
| Prompt: "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." Write about this prompt in your Blog entry today. ------------ If the message in this saying means to advise patience over impulsive actions and careless judgment, then it has some value. After all, the question is, am I solving a real problem, or am I changing things to feel in control? On the other hand, wisdom is not in resisting change either. Wisdom is knowing when change is really necessary. I suspect some things appear okay and unbroken at first sight; however, they may be hiding cracks inside them. Blindly following the “don’t fix it” idea can prevent improvement as well as innovation. Some things have been successful through the test of time. With those, I would be less willing to intervene. Yet, I truly think, if something isn't working, it should be looked at carefully. Maybe because, I am not too patient with things that don't work well. Maybe it is my downfall in a way, but I'd rather take action than sit and do nothing about something that isn't up to par. After all, at this time in my life, I drive a car and do not ride in a horse and buggy type of a carriage. . |
| Prompt: In This 21st Century "Learning is what most adults will do for a living in the 21st century," said someone named Perelman. Was he right? What and how do you believe we are now doing here in the 21st century? ------------ I'm not nitpicking, but learning is not a job in itself. It is a necessary requirement for living. And it isn't new either. Ever since we humans were put on earth, we have been trying to learn or at least adapt to situations and the weird offerings of this planet earth. In addition, not everyone has equal access to education or training, all the time. Learning, be it on one's own, is always emphasized, therefore, by one's parents, community, or life situations. In the past, at least in my day, most school systems were more into memorization than real teaching; however, we still learned a thing or two. Then, at times, wars and other life situations left little room for classroom learning. Despite those setbacks, people still learned. They learned, at least, how to live with their immediate surroundings well enough. After having touched those points, I have to say that here in the 21st century, a whole bunch of us work with information technology, healthcare, finance, etc. We also face the challenge of automation and artificial intelligence that do away with age-old employment basics. As a result, due to our fast changing technologies, our jobs also need constant updating in all areas. If only to keep a paid work, people must learn continually, and as a result, learning now has become a condition for survival. So, in that sense, this quote has a point. Nowadays, the person who thrives is not necessarily the most experienced or the strongest. The person who thrives is the one who is the most willing to learn and adapt. Especially now, in the 21st century which is defined by change, adaptability has become the core skill. The way I see it, we humans were cast on earth to learn in the first place, and we'll never finish learning, be it here in the 21st century or later. |
| Prompt: If you could stop one invention from being invented, what would it be? ----------- At first, as an answer, I thought of wars, immediately, but my thinking, then, became really complicated. To scale it down, I thought of the invention of metal weapons like swords, or later, gunpowder, and then, all the way to atomic bomb and modern warfare. The thing is, wars didn't begin with a single invention. So let's go back to the time of the swords. Before swords, people used sharpened sticks. Before guns, they used bows. Before bows, they used stones. If gunpowder could be erased, cannons and firearms would also be erased. Yet, people would still fight with other tools, even with their bodies, slapping and kicking one another. Long before advanced weapons existed, tribes fought over territory, resources, pride, fear, and power, didn't they? So, to me, this suggests that a deeper invention to end wars and fighting is more than weapons. It has to be the ideas people get hooked on. Such ideas might be: *The idea of exclusive ownership of land and other goods *The concept of nations and states *The “us versus them” stance so many of us take all the time. On the other hand, some inventions have always offered hope, at least at first. Inventions like the international laws, diplomacy, global trade, and instant communication especially in our day. I was going to add technology to good inventions but technology can go two ways by both fueling and restraining wars and conflicts. Now, that I've chewed the fat on this idea, my finger pointing, now, isn't directed at tools or even inventions but to human nature. This would take me all the way back to Cain, to a territory where I'd be really wary to step in. So just maybe, to get rid of wars, we must learn to get rid of hatred and jealousy, and replace them with true empathy and love for one another. |
Prompt: "The price of liberty is eternal vigilance." Thomas Jefferson Why do you think vigilance is so difficult in our time and what is really the price of liberty in your opinion? -------- The idea that vigilance and liberty go together points to the fact that liberty is, in fact, never secured permanently. I tend to wish that it could be permanent, so we could live our lives in peace. Then, methinks the price of liberty is not vigilance alone. It is responsibility. To be clear, liberty isn't "doing what we want." It has to do with character and the law. Yet, it is such a difficult thing! Resisting injustice -before it becomes a normal everyday situation- requires courage, and at times great courage. After all, liberty has to have our attention first, but paying such attention all the time can be tiring and inconvenient. It also needs our participation. It means sometimes we must dare to stand alone when our principles (of doing and saying the right thing) demand it. In addition, it needs self-restraint because we have to understand that freedom for one also has its limits...the limits that protect others and their freedoms. All this is very difficult, not only because we are neglectful, but also, in our time, we are flooded with information, opinions, news, outrage, and many other distractions. Personally speaking, I can't tell half the time if i am being manipulated or if I am being offered the truth. It is exhausting to me to figure out who says what and why. On top of that, I sometimes feel my voice doesn't matter, as I am sure many others also feel. This is because, in some institutions, we have lost faith. Then, there is that we-against-them stance, political or otherwise. With this polarization, even good vigilance turns out to be selective. Also, it is a moral effort to be always on top of things. We need to be our best selves, consistently, not just occasionally. And that consistency may be the highest cost of all. Still, from where I stand, the deepest truth points to the value of liberty, at any cost. |
| Prompt: Have fun with these four cliche phrases and these four words--- I smell a rat, a lone wolf, a bite at the cherry, a cut below, essential, notion, passion and knock! Only Courage “I smell a rat,” I said at dawn, when the sky became a pale-blue *notion of what it meant to begin again. In the hallway of my *essential days, where doubt would *knock I stood as “a lone wolf” by habit, but not by heart. Perhaps, I feared this chance was only “a bite at the cherry,” one brief sweetness...then, the stem went bare and I called myself “a cut below,” measuring my worth against louder voices, brighter rooms, fancy people, but you had seen my *passion and how it lifts the ordinary into something fierce and shining. There is no rat here tonight, only courage, and the steady rhythm of my knuckles that *knock and knock again until your door opens to my light. |
| Prompt: Write a story or poem about love without using the word “love.” --------- That Thing...After You've Gone It once began quietly not with trumpets and fanfare but with your soft smile as you turned the doorknob then you came home, totally. It was your plate I set at the table, and the last slice of pie I slid across without a word, and the light I left in the hallway for you to not stumble, but see. It was our hands finding each other in the dark of the room, our thumbs tracing circles as if drawing courage from skin and from our sweet words. It smells like rain on warm pavement, like bread rising before dawn, like your sweater hanging in my closet long after you’ve gone. And that thing is still staying when its leaving would be easier. It is listening past the sharp edge of loss while I keep hearing you inside my mind. It grows in small, stubborn places between tiny prayers, and what was shared, and in the hush after my tears as if I've stopped breathing. It does not ask to be named. It simply keeps showing up, again and again, like the tide faithful to the shore like maybe, you're still here with me, at home. . |
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Prompt: "I have experienced almost mystical moments of awareness when I have been alone in nature that might foreshadow the sort of heaven I like to imagine. " Jane Goodall Write about this in your Blog entry today. ------------- Beyond ordinary perception, were the words that stuck out inside my mind when I first saw this quote. |
| Prompt: Write about shamrocks in your Blog entry today. ------- Shamrocks! Am I right to think that you mean the bright green clovers, often associated with Ireland and St. Patrick's Day? |
| Prompt: Writing Prompts Do you like writing prompts? If so, what do you like about them and which kinds of writing prompts inspire you the most? -------- I don't just like writing prompts, but I really, truly love them. Without them, I'd be flailing about on what to write. I try to write to all kinds of prompts. At this time, however, there are only three of us giving out the prompts in Blog City. This is fine because I'm sure we all try to send interesting enough questions to our bloggers. I don't write with other blogging groups because I want to concentrate on one idea per day, since when I have the time, I like to give it enough attention. Mostly, when I write, I don't just answer the question, but I stretch my answers toward the ideas the question incites that also interest me. Surely, I wouldn't like to write too much against or for something too strongly, even if I have my own stance and choices. This is because I made my blog mostly public and I don't want to hurt other people with what I may say. This, my middle-of-the-road way of writing, may also be the result of my two sons' conflicting stances. Case in point, one of them is on the extreme right politically, while the other is on the extreme left on everything, and over the years, I learned to walk the line in between them. Believe me, that wasn't easy. And as difficult as everything became with the ai, which companies usually botch up--and I don't mean WdC's going through a revival here--my middle-of-the-road stance with my sons has always felt the most difficult. See, that's why I love blogging. From prompts, I could jump to my sons, to ai, and to what is difficult or not. All this is because I take prompts as suggestions and I feel free to write whatever comes as a result. Some days, I'm more thoughtful, others frivolous. But that's okay. After all, to me, writing is playing.  |
| Prompt: Art Write about art's influence on people. What is it about art that changes and inspires people? ------------------- Talking about visual arts alone, I have two cousins who are true artists. Plus, at one time or another, I tried my hand at painting and even worked with a local artist, Mr. Cardiff, semi-famous at the time; he used to work in NY City and did illustrations for several magazines. But that was once upon a time. After Mr. Cardiff passed away, during sometime in late 20th century, I think early 1980's, I stopped painting. So, I can easily say art had influence on me, since my family has had several artists during the several decades of my lifetime and the last couple of centuries. Why is art so impressive on us people, then? I think it is because art can reach the parts of us that logic alone cannot handle. Art makes us see and be seen. It gives shape to our private emotions, and while doing that, it heals our hurts. It reassures us that our fears, longings, griefs, or joys are also shared by some others. I can easily say that art has inspired me by showing me possibilities, transformation, and beauty in everywhere and especially in overlooked places. Surely this can be said about all arts, too. In my case, even as a young person, art made me understand that the world may not be fixed and that it can be reimagined. Maybe it is that mystery in art that talks to imagination rather than demanding approval or agreement. Art, in any area--be in the visual arts, in music, or literature--has certainly offered me something almost spiritual, something inward. I know it moved me. And possibly, what moved me, shaped me. |
| Prompt: Fantasy World Do you have a favorite fantasy world such as from a book, movies or maybe, a game? Describe such a world or describe our world the way you wish it to be. ------------ Truth is, the way I see it, our world seems like a dark fantasy, today. Still, it may gain its light again. I'm crossing my fingers for that to happen. Certainly, the difference between “reality” and “fantasy” is often not magic itself, but how we see and shape what is possible. So there's hope. There has to be hope. Inside that hope is the technology; although at this stage, I fear it, and at times, I'm at a loss in using it. Yet, one day we may be able to heal diseases with light, grow cities that float, or travel beyond our solar system as easily as we cross oceans today. Even if, our world may never grow dragon wings or have crystal towers overnight, surely, our imagination and wonder will take us far. Anyhow, I think, if we chose creativity, art, and storytelling as central structures, and not side luxuries, our cities might be built not only for function but also for beauty. Then the real magic in any fantasy isn't those spells but the courage, loyalty, sacrifice, and transformation, with kindness becoming natural and ordinary. So, I'm going to imagine that: Our forests will no longer shrink but will be restored and growing. Cities will not only be of stone and glass, but also will flourish together with living plants and trees and transportation will be efficient but will not pollute the air. Since we'll have healed them, the oceans will be sparkling clean. As to us humans, our children will learn dream-craft in addition to the curriculum, so they can invent, imagine, and design their future. The elderly will become wisdom-keepers and not sidelined as excess baggage. I certainly believe that magic is not in wands and spells but in reality. In this reality, magic can be : * A cure for a once-incurable disease. * A device that translates any language instantly. * Energy drawn cleanly from sun and wind. * Loneliness reduced because connection will be effortless. Looking from a different angle, I believe our world is a fantasy world, even now, this minute, if we choose to see it that way. Just watch it: The Aurora Borealis is already like sorcery. Deep-sea life and its creatures already look far-out and invented. Then, doesn't a newborn’s heartbeat already feel like a miracle? Maybe the question isn’t if this world can become a fantasy world, but if we are willing to participate in its transformation for the better. It may just be possible. In any case, I think so. I hope so! |
| Prompt: Have fun with this sentence-- Excitement replaced fear until the final moment. Poem or story, it's your entry! ------- Diving Mist hovered low as if the morning was holding its breath, while I stood at the edge of the dock, my toes curled over splintered wood, with water stretching before me like a sheet of quiet glass. Deep water? What's to be afraid of but I was...always...of what I couldn't see of what might pull me under in the way a surface hides secrets like life. Behind me, I imagined a whisper "You don't have to do this!" But what of the times I didn't dare what of the times I stepped back? Ahead, the water shimmered daring me in blue and silver and my heart knocked against my ribs, but not today "Let caution write its own story." First step...the hardest... a shift of weight the second was easier like the promise to myself Then, I ran! Excitement replaced my fear and the water rose to meet me alive, cold, shocking and I broke through it... And Wow! I was newly born surfacing euphoric... and I gasped and grinned at the mist that was lifting and at the water still deep still unknown and unconquered But so was I. --------- True story! Although at my age, I don't dive anymore. . |
| Prompt: Have fun with these ten words: wording, leash, soak, stock, platform, grandmother, plane, eternal, inspector, and February. ---------- Further Than Departure My *grandmother sat beside me, her house-dress smelling faintly of lavender and love. “Travel,” she said, “and let the world *soak into you. Don’t just pass through it.” So, on a gray morning, one *February, I stood on the *platform, my ticket folded like a secret in my glove, and the loudspeaker’s *wording blurred into the crowd, his each syllable trailing off, as if loose cash in careless hands. A distant *plane carved a silver line through the pale, uncertain sky, while below, the newsstand displayed its *stock of headlines and heartbreak, while an *inspector paced the edge of the yellow line, measuring time with polished shoes and a narrowed gaze. I felt something *eternal stirring, not in the engines’ roar or in the timetable’s strict command, but in my grandmother's steady soul having my back, her words though so far away now, guiding me forward without a *leash, trusting that I would come up with truths to have them *soak into people better than tears with their *wording further than departure, and love no inspector could tally, and no grief could freeze. |
| Prompt: Write about your dream garden for your Blog entry today. -------- I am not sure, today, if I can dream of a fancy garden with winding paths and what not, but once, I had a garden I still dream about. I had it until I came down with severe and incurable plant and weed allergies, the worst being of ragweed that was totally incurable as the allergists claimed. The allergists also banned me from any garden work; therefore, soon after all that, we moved to Florida where, at the time, ragweed didn't exist. Once upon a time, however, when we lived in LI, NY, in the back of the house was its two-acre yard. I still dream of that backyard, inside which were seven apple trees, plus a couple of pear trees. Then, I fenced an open space for a rose garden in which I put in 55 bushes. Why 55? It just happened that way. I wasn't planning it. Some days, in spring and summer, after all the yard work was done, I'd go sit in the middle of the rose garden and read. Behind the rose garden on the same opening, I had fenced in another vegetable garden. My sons who were quite young, then, called it, "Mom's Victory Garden," after its bountiful produce, possibly because of a popular garden show on TV, at the time. Around the house were many tall oak and maple trees and it was really shady there. So, I put a hammock in between two adjacent trees and that became my fall place for resting while I watched the colors of autumn everywhere. Truth is, I don't know if this can be called a dream garden, but it was where I felt the happiest. The place was serene and the three sides of the backyard were separated from the neighbors' yards by thick bushes and trees. I think a dream garden is not only about plants. It is about memory and hope and sanctuary. That type of a garden lives and breathes as if it is human. The most famous gardens have grandeur, artistry, and vision. I am not sure if the ancient Hanging Gardens of Babylon truly existed or not, or if I would find the same serenity in a famous Japanese garden or even in Monet's garden, which I had found in my then backyard-garden. To me, that not so fancy and not professionally cultivated garden of mine's memory still feels as if a dream I once had. It was where I lived the beauty without any concern for displaying it. . |
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