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empty

there is no breeze

to cool my feet

 

the ground is hard

and crumbs are sparse

 

the milk is spoiled

and the hand of bounty

is turned by avarice

 

so I choose the strong meat

 

to be the wolf

refusing to be kept.

◄ the pressure of the immaterial

human anatomy ►

Comments

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Thu 5th Oct 2017 13:03

Superb personal blog, Rachel.

I should have picked up 'the Painter'. I do have a Spanish' dictionary too. Got stuck on 'pint' meaning 'small' - in English.

When I was serving at the counter of our shop in Bermuda, I bent over for something under the counter, and rose to meet the face of the most beautiful girl/woman I had ever seen. And I said, without a thought, almost a prayer: 'Oh, my God, you are beautiful!'

I think she was of mixed race, with a slight slant of eyes and an oval face. She was a bit embarrassed but not cross, and we continued without
any further personal comments. I'll never forget her.

elPintor

Wed 4th Oct 2017 14:01

Hello, and good morning from South America.

A couple of weeks ago, I found myself in the early morning hours in an airport terminal looking into some of the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. She was a young woman traveling with family and the eye contact was brief, but there was such a sense of the primal in her features that I don't believe I will ever completely forget.

Here, in this small South American town, are many dogs and they walk freely through these streets lined with vendors and cafes as any human would. Most are quite happy to ignore any attempts at contact without a promise of food for reward. But, I've seen the occasional wagging hindquarters signaling the recognition of a beloved caretaker.

There is a beautiful, muscular white creature with wolf-like features and bright pale blue eyes at the mouth of the alley where I am staying. As I pass, I signal with a short whistle and open my hand. He comes to sidle close at my thigh and his great head slumps toward the ground in relaxation for a few moments as I brush my fingers through the thick fur along his back. The exchange is soundless and he departs from me unceremoniously, but it is refreshing to experience such contact without expectation.

All of these things, together, have had me thinking about human behavior, instinct and its suppression, and even how we cope with weighing personal values against societal expectation. It can get pretty complicated, it seems...

Take good care, to each of you, and thanks for such generous comments.

Rachel x

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rE4ISDUT4RM

PS
Hi, Cynthia. It seems that somehow my name came up during some exchange of comments and I haven't had the heart to go back to my WoL pen name. Truthfully I didn't put much thought into my pen name. As I am a painter (Sp. el pintor, "the painter"), and wanted to retain some level of anonymity, I found it appropriate. Thanks for asking and your recent comments are much appreciated.

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Stu Buck

Wed 4th Oct 2017 13:09

captured a lovely sense of both frailty and strength. i love the way you use words so sparsely, it shows a confidence in your writing which i long to possess.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Tue 3rd Oct 2017 11:56

Very interesting. Terrific last three lines; they could stand boldly all by themselves.

How do these gentlemen know you as Rachel? I like that. I always have a problem with pseudonyms. So what exactly does 'elPintor' mean? 'the thinker? the warrior?the small one?'the giver of milk? I'm really interested.

I did check out the famous 'band' connection; but I didn't think that was it. Might be, though.

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raypool

Tue 3rd Oct 2017 11:42

You really hit a point here Rachel and it reminds me of how the individual gets drawn in to the needs and wiles of the world even though bucking against it.

Ray x

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