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we know in our bones

I suppose that flying lessons might be more difficult if you're small and your wings haven't grown very much and you are still somewhat grassbound:






and you have to pay careful attention to what Mom is doing right in front of you when you'd rather sit on your houseboat deck:






No, the weather has not suddenly gotten a lot sunnier and shinier here, these are from last March and April. I especially like the fact that there are three images of Mom in the second photo: the other two are the direct shadow her body makes on the deck and the reflected image in the water, weaving and rippling.

And this is from New Year's, not a bird at all, but a fireworks image on the far R that looks to me like wings:






****

Louise Erdrich is an American author of Chippewa-German heritage who writes about a woman lost in a blizzard, really a symbol of things a lot deeper than snowdrifts and whiteouts. This is borrowed from one of her books:

"Her attempts to steel herself, movements that were sometimes dancelike, kept her warm enough to be certain that she could outlast the storm. A comfortable weariness held her, she relaxed to a trance. She might fly like this indefinitely, rise toward the oncoming dawn that caught her up into its new colours even now growing stronger. Death may be near, she thought as she spun along her last graceful curve. Perhaps, in fact, here was the beginning of her life. Here might be the actual tapestry of her existence, and everything she had lived up to now was the dream the girl dreamed, the girl safe and deep within her, curled like a shell inside a shell, secure against the last attacks of any roaring blackness.

Then she thought it was interesting that all along we actually know in our bones how to fly. It isnt floating we do in the womb, we are flying those first five months, through freedom's core and bones: flying, swooping, diving. It's only during the last months we learn what it is to be held too close, imprisoned, tethered. And where she plunged now was into the final warmth and shimmer of a full circle as a new path began for her outside her body. Once out, she understood vividly how narrow her lifelong containment had been."

In the book, and in the literal world, the woman works her way through the storm to safety. Barely.

****

There is a theatre student living in Vancouver named Eva Markvoort. Eva is 25 and has inherited the fatal disease cystic fibrosis [as another one of my Friends has, half a world away], and Eva is in "full-force rejection" from a double lung transplant which she underwent two years ago plus. She starred in a film called "65 Red Roses" which won awards last year at the Vancouver International Film Festival, and she's just received a Canadian national honor from the CF foundation there, for her dedication to the cause of publicizing the disease and helping fundraise for it.

She's been hospitalized for a month now and is on the edge of death once again. Waiting for a new lung transplant.

She posts regularly in LJ at http://65redroses.livejournal.com and her website is at http://www.65redroses.com

At one time last year, Eva and I traded some advice on theatre careers; she is an extremely creative character makeup artist and mentors kids, as I have also.

So in my world atm there are all these threads about flying and heart-lessons and what we know about the path that comes next. And also what we do not know but can have faith in. When the storm wipes out any path that you are able to see with your literal eyes.

I think Eva's path is an inspiring one; she talks with people all over the world sending her love and encouragement out to them and receiving it back, manyfold.

Just as once happened, over many weeks and really across years, too, in Kiota's world before she flew on into a new life... almost two years ago now. She's still all over my profile page. And, many times, far closer than that. And remaining close to many who will read this.

I guess there comes some comfort and excitement in how you RE - learn what flying is all about...

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kiota too late for the stars
silverplate88
Moonfire Marion Bridge / Brad

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