Connection

A friend recently shared his philosophy about Facebook with me, and I have to admit that I think he is on to something.

It’s all about “connection”.

Of course it is, right?  It’s amazing to find that old girl (or boy) friend and see how fat they’ve gotten, or how successful they are.  Isn’t it?  Doesn’t it feel good to reconnect with your first boss, your first employee, or your high school gym teacher?  It’s great right?  You send a few sentences, you catch up, and you make well-meaning promises to meet over a drink to discuss more. 

Does it happen? No.  Likely the only thing that will happen is that you will run across their name a few times a year when Facebook randomly decides that it’s time to poke them or write on their wall.  Then you will remember your excited agreement to meet up and discuss life, only those plans are now six months old.  Or more.  

My friend believes that maybe some people just aren’t meant to connect again, and that the mystical connection fairy of Facebook has somehow thrown a wrench into the cosmic "way of things." (I’m paraphrasing here.)   

Perhaps he is right.  

So what now?  Do I disconnect?    

Flash Fiction

Ok, so what is it?  Flash Fiction is a short snippet of writing meant to get your brain working.  You are given a prompt, either a picture, word, phrase or combination of these and sent to your thinking spot.  Usually there is a word limit (sometimes specific), and a time limit.  Flash Fiction works to help power through the creative process, and you might be lucky and win something. 

Here is a list of Flash Fiction sites that run contests each week that I have browsed. 
#MenageMonday - www.caramichaels.com
#TuesdayTales - www.glitterword.wordpress.com
#ThursThreads - www.siobhanmuir.blogspot.com
#FridayPictureShow - www.jendauthor.com

My entries this week:

#TuesdayTales I was given the word "exoteric" that was meant to be used in the piece, a limit of 100 words, and this photograph:

“That’s perfect, keep still,” Louise called to her subjects while snapping photos with her Pentax.  She had no idea that one of her models was the same Mark Davids who had broken her heart in high school.  So far he hadn’t seemed to recognize her, and she was glad of it.  No need to revisit that embarrassing fiasco.

“Ok, that was perfect.  Thank you guys,” she said, busying herself with rewinding the film, happy with the exoteric composition she had managed to arrange.

“Louise?” Mark asked, walking toward her.

She felt her knees start to buckle.  “Yes.”

“I knew it.”

#FridayPictureShow I was given a limit of 100 words, and this photograph:

Louise unrolled the soft blue suede cloth to reveal a collection of antique scissors that belonged to her great-great grandmother.  The chubby, greedy hands of the pawn dealer caressed them in a way that made her a little queasy.

“These are great, but they are showing their age.  I’ll give you $350 for the lot,” he said.

“$450,” she replied firmly. 

“$400?”

“Done.”

She wasn’t quite ecstatic about the deal, but she had to take it.  These days she had been selling everything she could in order to buy food for herself and her son since unemployment ran out.

Well, I haven't won yet, but it's been really fun and I plan to continue entering. 

Happy Writing!

One Last Gift

This is me, seven years ago.  I was on Maui. 

 

This is me, ecstatic because I had experienced something absolutely thrilling and magical.  I had just returned from a flight in this small plane which had taken me over the island of Maui, to the Big Island of Hawaii’.  I had seen pods of humpback whales from the air.  I had witnessed thousand foot cliff waterfalls, lined up row upon row in a gorgeous staircase of creation along Hawaii’s north shore. 

But, most magical of all, I had witnessed creation itself, and felt the kiss of Madame Pele.  We had flown directly over Kilauea’s active caldera, and along the volcanic coast.  The plane shifted violently in the sky, thanks to the massive change in temperature directly below us.  It was thrilling.  I looked out my window and was filled with wonder.  I stared through an opening directly into the red-hot earth below.  The hole in the earth’s crust was in the shape of a human heart, the vog (volcanic fog) rose from it in steady clouds making it appear as if it were beating.  It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my entire life.  The hole was certainly large enough to swallow the small plane, but I trusted the pilot to get us through.  I had to. I had given up control getting on this flight, something I don’t like to do.

We spent a half hour circling the caldera before flying over the volcanic coast, which stretched in a thick black carpet for miles and miles.  We flew over Mauna Loa, and back over the channel to the coast of Maui.  Pods of whales again frolicked below us, dolphins miniaturized next to them. 

I titled this “One Last Gift” because this plane ride was the last Christmas present that I would ever receive from my beloved grandmother, although I didn’t realize it at the time.  Several months later she would pass away unexpectedly in my arms.  But, she left me with this amazing gift, the gift of knowing that sometimes you just have to buckle up and let the Pilot do His job.  He will get you there safe.  He has the expertise that you don’t.  And, if you are very lucky, He will fly you over a volcano and show you the secrets of creation itself while you are on the journey. 

Thank you for that gift, Grandma Betty.   I still miss you and love you every single moment.  

(Please note that this photo isn't a photo that I took.  We couldn't take photos in the plane.  I found this at usgs.gov, but it's pretty close to what I saw.  And, in real life, it appears much larger.)

Dali and Disney

Taken from: http://www.disneyonline.dk/news/?id=679

     This photo is of (if you don’t know who they are – where have you been?) Salvador Dali and Walt Disney.   They are individuals that embody the magical spark of creativity that I can only dream of having a sliver of in my lifetime.  I am fascinated by these two men. 

     Salvador Dali is by far one of my favorite artists.  He not only created art, he lived it.  He WAS art.  He embodied it in his lifestyle.  That is what I love about him.  He was fearless in his creativity.  He didn’t care what anyone thought about him or the way he lived his life.  He lived for art.  If only.  If only I could project that sort of fearless attitude.  Many viewed him as “strange”, and still do to this day because they can’t see beyond the canvas.  But I don’t view him as strange, or his art.  I think he was amazing, passionate and a true diamond of a soul.  His art moves me; his portrayal of his beloved wife in his paintings moves me to goose bumps.  His art is romantic, honest and raw. 

     Walt Disney, on the other hand, inspires me in other ways.  His story motivates me to follow my dreams, no matter how crazy they sound.  He dreamt of building a mouse and duck farm, literally, and he did.  He was inspired by the sparkle in his children’s eyes when they rode a merry-go-round at a park.   He wanted to capture that happiness (happiness is a hard thing to capture) and re-produce it so everyone could have the opportunity to enjoy it.  It took blood, sweat and tears, but he accomplished his dream.  What he did was amazing and inspirational.  I would argue that his original idea has brought more genuine happiness to people than many churches.  I’m not talking about the modern incarnations of the Disney empire, I’m talking about the heart and soul of his original idea.  It was a wonderful idea, an amazingly selfless journey, and he succeeded. 

     If only I could combine the energy of these two special souls, it would probably split the atom.  Or implode.  They are that rare.