Each Moment…~

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΅〜  ೋ  ೋ 〜΅

“All words are pegs to hang ideas on.” 

Henry Ward Beecher ~

 

╰⊰✿ I was supposed to be writing more often. I promised myself a minimum of how often I hoped to post…having not met that minimum I am now here because I also have a new motto I’m trying to live by. A motto I’d like to share with you as well…

“Each moment is a perfectly contained capsule of life. Each moment is the only one we can life in, the only one we have control over. The past moments are gone. The future moments are not here yet. What we have is only this very moment. Meaning…we can choose each new moment to change that which we don’t like, enjoy that which we do, and know that each one of these moments are precious pearls strung together to make a life. Our life.”

And right this very moment I get to share that with you, as you read this…as I write this. We are, for a brief few minutes connected in time. It’s really a rather staggering and mind-blowing concept to contemplate. All that to say that it’s okay I’ve not written, because I have chosen right now to write. I have many thoughts I wish to share with you about the epic nature of our modern ability to connect with others around the world. I’ve experienced it here with you in blog format, on my Facebook Page as mentioned before, and also on Twitter–which is new to me. Well, not new…per se…I’ve had a Twitter account for some time, but in taking time each day to connect…just to say good morning or ‘hey look at my crazy dog’, share a meaningful quote, or whatever quick little thing(s) throughout the day one wishes to share, Twitter is the format for it.

I know some don’t care for it and others use it for entirely different purposes. I’m just along for the ride and happily call it ‘research’. I adore the connections I’ve made so far and look forward to many more. I’ve shared the love of the reading, of words, of coffee, of writing. I have connected with those who are practicing the craft of writing, those who are writing books, those who have books published, those who would rather just read books and more. Some who just love the idea of an instant connection ‘in a moment’ with someone.she reads to nourish

All this goes with my rapidly growing voracious appetite for words. How people use them. How they are interpreted. How social media, books, everything written is assimilated, sought after, shared. I find it absolutely fascinating and am just so honored to be part of it. Honored that some would be interested in my words…in what I have to say…to share. Beyond honored that they would take the time to tell me exactly how my words, my poems, have affected them.

So, in a moment we can change our lives, or life can change it for us. Both for good and bad. In most cases, we have the choice to pilot our moments in the directions of our dreams…if we only would choose to.

 

Until next time… ✿⊱╮

 

΅〜  ೋ  ೋ 〜΅

     ΅〜 ೋ  Christina〜  ೋ 〜΅

~

P.S.  As you may have noticed I am currently…tweaking the layout, it’s still not quite what I’ve envisioned. However, I do very much appreciate you’re awesomeness while I continue to get it sorted. And hey…have an amazingly incredible day/night! ♥ xx~

 

Hidden…

mask MariaAmanda on deviantart

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Can you read the space between my words?

Though unsaid…perhaps subtly felt?

The very tool of my destruction…
Simultaneously my resurrection…

Delicately haunting…

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The more rare…
The more innovative…
Probable possibilities of persuasion…
Obscuring me…
Shielding…
Protecting…

Can I tempt you?
Fascinate you?
Entice you?

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Would you look beyond this masquerade I’ve so cleverly crafted?

Would you truly seek me with an exigent desire to unequivocally know me?

Would you rather believe the interpretation of my rendition…

Or keep me here where my words only serve…

Emulation’s illumination…

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Should you wish it…

I am here…
Hidden…

~

΅〜 ೋღ  ღೋ     〜΅

    ΅〜 ೋღ  Christina ~  ೋღ 〜΅

~

 Gorgeous photo by MariaAmanda ~ deviantart

Whisper Love….

my ghosts are gaining on me Princess-of-Shadows deviant art

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Softly spoken…
Evocative words…
My drug of choice…
Intoxicate me with your whispered touch…
Make the intangible…visceral…
Tracing my soul…my body… with each spoken affirmation of your love…your desire…
Transcendence via provocative susurrus…

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Evocative exigency…
Envelope me with the warmth of your breath…
Surrounding…
Pervading….
Intoxicating…

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Yes please…
Whisper love…

Tell me your secrets…
Share your soul with mine…
Consummate this love…
Unlock me…

΅〜 ೋღ ღೋ     〜΅

    ΅〜 ೋღ  Christina ~  ೋღ 〜΅

~

Gorgeous photo by Princess-of-Shadows Deviantart ~

What of Love?

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I’ve been away for a while…lost in a world of words….or trying to be in between life’s demands. All of this got me to thinking about my collection of words… how it is growing exponentially with each new author I experience. More than that…I realize that Phase One of my Reconstruction process was finding my voice…which I have done via words.

I suppose one would call this Phase Two…where I explore this new enigmatic and magical world where it is just I and words. Where I collect them like one would pick wild flowers in a field of luxurious splendor. That being said…I bring you my disclaimer which will officially initiate Phase Two of Reconstructing Christina… ~

photo journal

This is my Word Journal ~ Where I collect words, phrases, etc. Unceasingly adding to my repertoire.

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I could write of any thing…
Of every thing…
Hopes, fears, emotions…all of it…

Staring at the blank screen I think of my experiences…my past, present, future…
All coalesce into a myriad of thoughts and feelings…

I think of books I’ve read…of the greatest, most-gifted authors who write prose as easily as you and I breathe…of the beloved characters they’ve created…
I think of friends…of family…
Their thoughts, feelings, emotions on experiences in their lives…

I realize I needn’t write merely of my own small inconsequential existence…

Quite the contrary…
There are no ambivalent…ubiquitous…limitations..
I can write of all things…any thought…any emotion…any experience…
Words transcend…transport…our souls to the familiar…simultaneously to the hitherto unknown…

And what of love?

Universally speaking we’ve all tasted it…felt it knock us off our feet…or at the very least we’ve dreamt of it…what it would feel like in Love’s embrace…enveloped by all the very varied vicissitudes of that holy grail of emotions…

Yes…I shall share with you…dear reader…all of my experience with each and every emotion…be it mine be it anonymous…or pure fiction… For in the end…we all experience all of life eventually…some things exquisitely unique…some universal..

     ΅〜 ೋღ ღೋ      〜΅

So, I would politely ask you to not equate my coming pieces referring to only myself…
Instead please think of my words as relating to us all…
In one form or another…

That is my wondrous challenge, given to myself by me..to write in such a manner so as to be relatable by all…
For we are inherently…at some level or another…all the same…
Uniquely similar…

~

Christina signature old script

Epiphany…

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Epiphany 2

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I see how different words are bestowed with a sublime radiance of varying hues of color…
Emotional gradation…

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I observe my palette of words very carefully…
One mustn’t rush…

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Slowly I begin to paint…first one then another…
I step back and look at the revealing of this new painting…
This creation of words blending into something wondrous…
Something hitherto unknown…
Time passes…

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I look again…
I close my eyes…

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I feel the tumultuous gathering…
The machinations of my senses coalescing into words…

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Their birth a beautiful rendition of everything combining at once…
As if time has no meaning here…
Past, present, future collide into my Phantasmagoric Dreamscape…
Joining…rejoining…connecting…
Locking together as though they already know how they are to combine…
As if they each have their own purpose, thought, desire…
To be seen, read, understood…

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Epiphany…
Am I their painter…
Or are they mine?

~

   ΅~ ೋ ೋ ~΅

 ΅〜 ೋღ  Christina~ ღೋ     〜΅

My Very Essence…

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writing roses

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  I write because I love words…

More than that…

I am utterly infatuated, fascinated, increasingly enamored with them…

their ability to express anything and everything one would desire…

 So very many decadently delightful and exquisitely evocative ways…

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I write to release pent up thoughts…emotions, hopes, fears, dreams…

Endless expressions of me…

Who I am…why I am…where I wish to go in this journey of life…

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Not only is writing my catharsis, it is unceasingly shaping me…

I quite literally am writing myself into who I am…

who I am becoming…who I will be…

My personal revolution…

A metamorphosis via a plethora of beloved words…

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If you wonder why I write..the above is the best answer I’m able to give you…

Perhaps that also explains why I write so often of the inability to

express words exactly how or when I would wish…

To put words to the vague…the intangible…the elusive…

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Some people call it writer’s block…

I call it amputation…

Without my beloved words…

I lose myself…my voice…my very essence…

I am only as unique as the words I choose…

The emotions…the feelings conjured by their purposeful placement.

It is my insistent compulsion to continually do so in ever more very varied ways…

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You need look no further…

For this is who I am…wholly and completely me…

To be found…

In each word I write…

~

΅~ ೋ ೋ ~΅

΅〜 ೋღ  Christina~ ღೋ     〜΅

   

Inspiration’s Impetus….

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Imagination's Impetus

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Descending decadently upon me…

At times overwhelming me with insistence…

Filling me with words long forgotten in the depths of my mind…

There they dwell…waiting to be remembered…

Discovered again with joyous exuberance…

Longing to be joined to one another in a form solely mine…

Wholly me…in essence…in words…

Expression of my soul sent out into the world…

Representation of my hopes…my dreams…

Magical machinations continually moving…rearranging…

Birth of my voice in silence…

Imagination’s Impetus awakened…

Fueled by memories…experiences…

Dreams that have and have yet to come…

Their requirements are that their union be unique…

That they get to represent me…

Expressing me in ways I never could…

Until now…

They fight for their ultimate freedom…yearning to roam…to leave me…

Their departure evokes new combinations

unceasingly born and born again…

Be still…

Wait…

Listen…

Feel…

Write…

Only then can I truly be free…

~*~

christina signature b&w

~*~

Copyright © Christina Brownlee 2013