Happiness 8-29
the seat of your pants sticky and bright from sliding down the rainbow; toys coming to life; a peacock feathers in the sun.
the seat of your pants sticky and bright from sliding down the rainbow; toys coming to life; a peacock feathers in the sun.
the stream meandering right up to your front door; traveling on the back of Old Sea Turtle; finishing the symphony.
dancing in the gazebo after everyone else has left; the cricket explaining things; rain after intense, hot sorrow.
discovering the underwater cave; seeking justice – finding mercy; crossing the plains before winter.
the owl whispering in your ear; the cactus blooming again; a strange noise that turns out to be a welcome surprise.
sunlight on piles of antique stained glass; gold glitter pouring upward from her palm; dancing during afternoon tea
In my editing practice, two words that writers overuse when they’re describing characters they want to impress you with are “beautiful” and “handsome.”
What, exactly, are they trying to say? What makes someone appear beautiful?
Especially irritating to me is when an author writes: “She used to be beautiful, but now she had a few wrinkles around her eyes…”
Argh. Irk. You’d be much better off saying,“She used to be twenty-two…” […]
stretching your arms as high as the moon; lifting the rock and finding a small door; landing on her shoulder.
cake and presents; playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey; coming to the end of the trail and deciding to go on.
a circular slant of light; finding yourself transported back in time; the kindness of strangers.
the sweetest crescent moon; papaya salad; stepping onto the gangplank.
woken by a crash of thunder; arriving at the temple of Banteay Srei in Cambodia; the grapes ripening.
the horse and the donkey; a series of unexpected events that leads to amazement; curled up on a window-seat with a mystery.
four quartz crystals in a pool of water; opening the drawer and finding a mysterious charm bracelet; the shepherd home from the hill.
setting down the pen with a deep sigh of relief; an island of good luck; tending to your baby llama.
the sweetest moment of all; diving into a mountain lake at dawn; the train pulling out of the station.
the foundation as deep as the steeple is high; partying with treefrogs all night long; flying into the wind.
the birth of the white bison; the stranger taking your hand and leading you out of there; kissing the inside of her elbows.
sunshine on the pomegranate tree; that long talk with a fox in a field; a hand on your shoulder.
the fragrance of Mediterranean fig; wainscotting; transcendence at the bottom of the sky.
holding a mirror up to the sky; swimming to the underwater pyramid at Yonaguni-Jima, Japan; a half-open yellow rose.
two queens talking in the summer house; climbing to the top; seeing things as they really are.