Mile Marker Zion

Post by **SmileGRL** » August 11th, 2009, 4:57 pm

i tiptoe around through thoughts and colors. i don't always say something. but i do smile...

Post by **the mingo** » August 11th, 2009, 10:55 pm

now, there's an image ... and I believe that just about fills out my day.
Goodnite, MJ.

Post by **tinkerjack** » August 12th, 2009, 4:27 am

I say too much smile too little

Post by **SmileGRL** » August 12th, 2009, 9:59 am

goodmorning mr. mingo

here's another image for you...

morning light. fog paints the air ethereal. butterflies hang on the willow tree like two upside down hearts still asleep while flowers wake up taking thirsty sips of dew. the beauty of it all takes my breath away

have a really nice day

Post by **the mingo** » August 12th, 2009, 12:18 pm

And Mornin' to you too, MJ. Actually it's a bit past noon here in the eastern forests. Crows are making a fuss outside my door. Funny you should mention butterflies. I had to pop out earlier this morning to gets cigarettes and was going to take my ol' Cordoba but there was a butterfly resting on the driver's door handle. A monarch. I had to go back inside the house to get the keys for the Jeep.

Post by **the mingo** » August 13th, 2009, 9:03 am

Met a woman once who always wore gloves. Grey gloves with black seams. She called San Francisco home. Had a house on the north side of the Bay. Met her at a deli in Mill Valley. She came up next to me where I was standing at the sandwich counter to order. She saw me looking at her gloves. They covered her forearms almost to the elbow. She made it to the first move ahead of me. Said to me with a smile, "You like my gloves?".

Strange what you remember with decades standing between you and any particular event.

Strange.

Strange too what those gloves did to me. Made of me an entirely different person than the one I'm accustomed to. In less time then it takes to say. With the act of hiding what is normally in view she, a complete & utter stranger, revealed to me secrets I had no idea I was the keeper of. In that moment it did not matter in the least to me what my name was. Or to me her name either. All I wanted to do with every last scrap of my being was kiss those gloves. Kiss those gloves. Kiss those gloves.

Post by **mousey1** » August 13th, 2009, 1:59 pm

Smiling at the butterfly on your car door handle and you leaving it and using the jeep instead. Yes, yes, respect the butterfly!

I should have a bumper sticker that reads...

I BRAKE FOR BUTTERFLIES!

Post by **the mingo** » August 13th, 2009, 2:54 pm

Mouse, where do you get these things? The butterflies I mean all animated & stuff. Especially the emoticon you got rolling around on the ground over on your log in that post where you are answering Jack. That one cracked me up.

Post by **mousey1** » August 13th, 2009, 3:38 pm

Doreen put the link here in this topic...

http://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=15209

go there and the

shall be yours!

The butterflies are there too! Under...BUTTERFLIES!

Post by **SmileGRL** » August 13th, 2009, 4:44 pm

mingo...how nice are you to let the butterflies be. and the gloves...yes, the gloves added that "forbidden" factor...we want what we cannot have/see/touch. very cool memory!

mousey...made me grin with the "i brake for butterflies" bumper sticker. (more smileys! yay! thank you. i missed that post by doreen.)

Post by **stilltrucking** » August 13th, 2009, 7:32 pm

Met a woman once who always wore gloves. Grey gloves with black seams. She called San Francisco home. Had a house on the north side of the Bay. Met her at a deli in Mill Valley. She came up next to me where I was standing at the sandwich counter to order. She saw me looking at her gloves. They covered her forearms almost to the elbow. She made it to the first move ahead of me. Said to me with a smile, "You like my gloves?".

Strange what you remember with decades standing between you and any particular event.

Strange.

Strange too what those gloves did to me. Made of me an entirely different person than the one I'm accustomed to. In less time then it takes to say. With the act of hiding what is normally in view she, a complete & utter stranger, revealed to me secrets I had no idea I was the keeper of. In that moment it did not matter in the least to me what my name was. Or to me her name either. All I wanted to do with every last scrap of my being was kiss those gloves. Kiss those gloves. Kiss those gloves.

I like that a lot mingo.
That is all I got to say about that for now.

Post by **the mingo** » August 13th, 2009, 11:46 pm

My thanks to you all for the above posts. To Jack, Mouse, MJ, (Happy B'Day) & Doreen.

Post by **the mingo** » August 13th, 2009, 11:58 pm

Was out beachcombing for driftwood yesterday morning. Came upon a deer I thought was dead. But she wasn't. She was in the process of dying. The flys were at her already. The crows were calling from the trees. I usually carry a hunting knife when I enter the woods but I didn't have it with me today & couldn't cut her throat for her. The thought of her still being alive when the scavengers came for her was hard to bear. I thought about getting a rock from the lakeshore and smashing her skull. It would have been called a mercy. But I did not do it. Because ... because ... because this is the way it is. This is truth. My stink was in her nostrils, the flys were at her eyes and she tried to lift her hind legs in a feeble kick at it all trying to get away. But she won't get away from this. She has had her last run. She has dropped and from here she will not get up again. Death was on her & was not leaving without her. I remembered a death chant my uncle had taught me and I sang it to her. I kept my voice low & soft. When the chant was finished I spoke to her. Easy girl, easy now. It's almost over. Let it go. Go on now, go on. I took a cigarette out of my pack and worked the tobacco out of it between my thumb and first finger into my hand then sprinkled it on her body & the ground around her body. Having done all that was required I did not interfere further. I turned and walked away. It was a mile walk up to the road where I had left the Jeep. I could hear the crows every step of the way. I did not curse them. Nor did I curse the truth that will be as solid & same for me as it is for that doe there on the ground tonight out in the woods. Goodnite, folks.

Post by **mousey1** » August 14th, 2009, 11:16 am

That is too sad a tale to bear. How it is though I guess. A natural way. Though difficult to see. Let us hope she was past caring, her spirit already soaring away.

Here, recently in the news, there was a story of three boys who chased a young moose with sticks, chased it mercilessly to the point of exhaustion. The poor thing had to be put down. I can hold no grudge against the crows but these kids...what the fuck! Details are yet to emerge fully, and there is some question as to the boys involvement...but it wouldn't surprise me, it honestly wouldn't.

Let's find something cheerful now, okay?

Post by **stilltrucking** » August 15th, 2009, 8:43 am

You done it honor mingo
One Stab would have been proud of you.

"and that is all I got to say about that."

Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

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