WPC: One Love


Summertime – I’m walking to work. Gardeners are watering early in the morning preparing for a scorching day, sprinklers jetting, hoses dribbling.

I’m deep in thought – mulling over life, the universe, and yes, love. The thoughts drift and coalesce into a certainty of my interconnection with all of life and a bone-deep feeling of love.

And I see, just ahead of me, the sprinkler patterns have crossed and skipped to form this brief message of universal agreement.

I laugh, cry and take a picture…

And then blog about it, of course.

To see more responses to the Weekly Photo Challenge: One Love, click here. My original post can be seen here.







For Love of Bowie

I woke to the news this morning of David Bowie’s death.

Although I never met the man, I am heartbroken. His art, his music, has serenaded me my entire life. As a child I was fascinated with Diamond Dogs and would rattle off the words to Future Legend randomly.

Yes, I was a geeky, awkward kid with a strong love of the weird, sci-fi and fantasy. David Bowie was the shit.

In 1977, in my first year of high school, I signed up for a modern dance class. I was terrible at it. The routines would escape my grasp after the first few changes, and I struggled to keep up by watching the other students. I always chose the back row, of course. To finish the class we had to create and perform our own routine. We could pick our own music. In an era of disco and dance, my fellow students picked Thelma Houston and Donna Summer.

I picked David Bowie.


Yep. I was that weird kid in class. But I managed to dance the whole song. I even got a pretty good grade (I think).

I love music and many musicians have contributed to my life’s soundtrack, but David Bowie will always hold a very special place in my heart.

Rest in Peace…..and thank you.



Until Then…

My posts of late have been sporadic.

I have just lost my companion of fourteen years, my beloved dog, and my motivation has flagged.

setta warmth

I’m heading out of town, without my computer, without the internet.

But I will take a camera (of sorts) and I will return.

And tell you all about it.


Thank you all for reading, following and sharing this blogging world with me…

The Heart of the Matter


Flowering quince makes me feel philosophical – I can’t help comparing them to people’s hearts. Surrounded by thorns and branches, the beautiful, delicate flowers are not like other blossoms that can be picked, collected and placed in a vase. They’re best enjoyed left right where they are, well protected and fragile and fleeting.

Love is unreasonable

winter coat

My love for you was unreasonable.

There was no thing I could point to and say, “That. That is why I love him.” It was more than the hours of easy conversation, of points in common and mutual understanding. It was more than your scent. I could indicate the curve of your neck as it rises to meet the base of your ear, but everyone has that. Why did yours move me?

I fell in love with you immediately and deeply. It made no sense. From one week to the next, my cells shifted their polarity. You became my orientation. For no particular reason. For every reason. My love was unreasonable.

Initially I was very happy. Finally! I had found the love of my life! No more was love something mysterious and foreign. I now understood why couples would stay together despite great difficulties. No wonder, if they felt like this! In my naiveté I assumed I couldn’t feel so much if it weren’t mutual. You felt something, I’m sure. But you did not fall in love with me.

You fell in love with my love.

My love was like a warm winter coat. A favorite coat. It kept out the cold of the world and brought comfort.

You loved that coat.

My friends loved and accepted you. Another layer of warmth from the cold of the world. My friends were a part of my world, and so your love for their warmth extended to me.

You loved my friends.

But like a coat, no matter how favored and beloved, sometimes my love would be set aside. It’s not always cold enough to wear a coat. That’s no reason to get rid of the coat! Who gets rid of their winter coat in summer? It gets put away for the season, so that when it gets cold again, you can reach over and put it on.

My love for you was so unreasonable, I was willing, for a while, to be that coat. Put me on, take me off. Just let me love you. Maybe you’ll love me eventually. In the meantime, I feel the love for my love and am willing to let that be enough.

For a while.

Like any favored piece of clothing, this warm coat, my love, eventually needed attention. A button lost here, a seam ripping there. When it was time to pull out a needle and thread, to address the wear and tear of years of service, you were unwilling. Instead, you got rid of the coat.


Today’s Daily Post inspired me to play lexicographer – see other responses here.

Would it be great if we all spoke the same language? I wonder about this.

On one hand we could perhaps avoid many misunderstandings. But what would be lost? Can we craft a universal language that somehow includes all the cultural beauties we don’t share? To somehow create a highest common denominator rather than a lowest one?

My native language is English, and while there’s a wide range of words to express oneself in English, there are big gaps. A common example is our words for snow: “snow” and “sleet”. To describe what’s happening outside in the winter we’re reduced to phrases like “It’s really snowing out there!” or “What big, fat flakes are coming down!” or “The snow has gotten hard and crusty.”

But what really gets me is the word “love”. Is there a more abused, over-used and misunderstood word out there? Like snow, love takes a lot of forms and changes over time. The Inuits have a lot of words for snow, they can be very specific without verbosity. We need more specific words for “love”.

And now I finally get to my word today: “parsamy”

From the Latin roots for “partial”, “pars”, and “love”: “ami/o” – “parsamy” is love when it’s only held by one person, non-reciprocal love, unrequited love, one-sided love.

“He thought it was love, but it was only parsamy.”

Sadly it’s only a noun. “Love” is both verb and noun. Perhaps “parsamate”, “parsamation”, “parsaming”, or “parsamour”?

“Oh yeah, that boy from my algebra class. He was my parsamour.”

“When two people don’t communicate clearly they run the risk of parsamation.”

“Don’t parsamate me.”

Perhaps I don’t need to re-invent the wheel. Do you know a language that has more nuanced words for “love”?

Life is Sweet


The photo is poor quality. But the life in it is sweet.

My friend and companion, to whom I thought I’d have to say goodbye by Christmas, has survived to see the dismantling of the season. She has outlived her prognosis and I have learned how to live with joy in the face of death.

When I first heard that she was dying of cancer, I was so grieved I didn’t know how I’d get through it. My dog is my best friend and home companion. My partner. And I felt ridiculous in the midst of crying, when there she was! Panting and begging for food, very alive! Why cry?

I have learned this aspect of grief: I can ignore what’s coming. I can simply not think about it. I would call it denial, but I know she’s dying; I make sure she gets her pain meds. I just refuse to consider the loss of her while she’s alive. I don’t pretend it’s not happening, and yet I do. Is there a word for this? I don’t know.

I do know “be here now” and “now” is very sweet.

Why cry?



I went to a New Year’s Eve party last night. Actually I went to more than one, but I’ll tell you about just one. It was full of friends and well known faces, good cheer and all that. Personally I don’t really know what to do with myself at parties. I do best with only one or two people at a time, so when I get into a room full of people, even well known beloved people, I get overwhelmed. I usually find a corner to watch (less creepy than it sounds) or try to have a deep conversation with one or two people.

At this party last night I got to continue to work on “moving on.”

I had a boyfriend, some time back. OK, an embarrassingly long time back. I fell hard for him. I was so in love. It was a lesson to me in how love can be one-sided. Because, oh sad story, he didn’t love me back. He felt lots of positive feelings and all, but I spent three years wishing and hoping that he’d suddenly realize how much he loved me. Alas, it never happened and we fell apart, as mismatched couples do.

We remained friends, and I still somehow held out hope that he’d fall for me. (I know how pathetic this sounds, but hey! I’m being honest here.) Three years later he’s still single and I’m still holding out hope. My friends say things like, “I think he wants to get back together with you!” or “You two make such a great couple, I don’t know why you’re not together!” Not very helpful, all that, but well meant nevertheless.

Then he calls me one day last winter to let me know that he’s met someone and has fallen in love. (Good man to tell me straight and not through the grapevine!) And he truly has. I watch him go through all the behaviors I always thought he’d have if he’d loved me. I feel terribly sad for me, happy for him, and vindicated. “See? I was right! He didn’t love me! I knew it!”

That may seem strange, but when your gut says one thing and the people around you are saying something else, it’s disturbing.

So back to the party. He’s there with his sweetheart. She’s great – nice, friendly, attractive. They really make a lovely couple. And he’s all attentive. In fact he’s so different I just want to watch him, to watch them both interacting and being couple-y. But I realize that would be creepy. (Despite my earlier disclaimer) So in my attempts at being not creepy, I tend towards ignoring. Great!

But what I really want to do is just watch. Who IS this guy? He, and they together, fascinate me.

Long story short, I made it through the party, into the new year, toasted champagne with friends and managed to not be too creepy.

Go me!