Florida Story


    The orchid by the kitchen sink was limp, and its leaves were heavily wrinkled. The flower was dying. Nothing had worked: spraying, watering, sun, or shade. But I could not give up on it-- my first ever orchid in a pot...

    In Florida's wild, orchids cling on trees. Knowing it, I took the flower outside to give it a last try. I fastened its roots on a small palm tree near my door, in a place where the sprinkle was reaching generously, and the tree's canopy was giving it proper shade. Soon after, I forgot about it...

    One day I had a sudden recollection, and went to check on the orchid. Amazing... The flower had hugged and hugged the tree with its roots, even longer and ferm. My little clips used to keep the plant in place were no longer needed because the roots were fierily stuck in between the protrusions of  the tree trunk, as if they were part of it. The leaves bore no sign of wrinkles, and a long stem had grown from under them; at the tip of it a pink flower had bloomed, and a few other were just waiting to open... I was so happy as if I gave birth myself.

    Or maybe it was the joy of resurrection.


                                                                  *  *  *


    The artwork is laid down on the table, ready for the show.

    "Why did you put those blobs of gooey stuff...? They look like sperm."

    "Trust me, it actually makes sense..."

    We laughed for about 5 minutes. In bed.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Neclintire

     Sunt zile și zile. Manunchiuri de zile. Zile când vreau sa mă tot duc pe drumuri, mări, neștiute, nesfarsite, si zile când vreau sa stau, sa patrulez pe aceeași poteca de mii de ori, sa mă umplu de un spațiu care să-mi devină din ce in ce mai familiar, din ce in ce mai acasă. Un nomad si un sedentar.        Dar acum vreau sa stau. Zile in șir. Sa stau aici, sa fac pași mici doar, nepresati de orele plecărilor, sa ating aceeași materie in fiecare zi. Sa mă desfăt in rutina. Sa descopăr si sa sug energia care e într-un singur loc. Pana la fund. Si locul acesta sa se îmbibe cu energia mea ca un burete din care începe sa curgă. Sa mă împrietenesc chiar si cu ceea ce-mi e ostil: caldura amiezii, țepii cactușilor, scorpionii, aerul prea uscat, toate musculițele care au apărut dintr-o data la caldarusa unde adun resturile de mâncare...      Nu ma mai chemati pe nu stiu unde...
Read more

Freedom

     I did not know that Carl Jung said about life that begins at 40. Good to know because I was tempted to believe that it was more of a personal experience. When I entered my 40s, I felt something remarkable about this age, something that signaled newness. A more open stage, where things that had been in a sort of haze, became clear. Clarity brought immense freedom like I did not experience before. Freedom from anything that would keep me stuck in an idea that was not totally internalized, understood, or honestly dealt with. Freedom is an outset.      Why people talk about getting old at 40? It is a new life that begins here, maybe a new form of childhood. When you are rediscovering everything without the typical child-like clumsiness, hesitation, or ambiguity. It is a stage where known feelings are elevated through a form of consciousness that gives a sense of freedom. It feels like a new self, and yet the same soul; rejuvenating like a new set of clothe...
Read more

Dark and Light

     Who would have thought...? In a day when nothing seemed out of the ordinary... To slip through a hole like Alice in Wonderland... But for me it was no Wonderland, but a dark world where people suffer, cannot do normal activities, they are in pain and cry for help, where disease and death are looming. I mean... I vicariously knew how hard it was for sick people to deal with life, but I got more than ever to feel it myself, to have it... to know it first hand...      A simple accident while showering, overzealously polishing my heel. A sharp pain on the side, then loss of ability to move. Excruciating pain, and crawling like a creature of the earth. A few hours like that, then hardly moving. A muscle strain. Rest, ice, oils helped. Better everyday, then coming back home through the same hole... Running like a deer again.      Happy as if life it's not simply granted, but it's a miracle...
Read more