I used this song in The Story of Mary (1944 series, which in rereading is really pretty good stuff) but as I came upon this video my eyes welled of want. The song is one of my favorites, but it is this image, of Brett writing and Natalie, sitting beside, her hand on his shoulder, smiling, laughing. And he looks so much at peace and the light looks so natural and the two of them, in this moment seem cocooned in their own private joy, flowing the moments with the natural ease of a quiet river. I want this. The smile. The hand. The laughter. And the creating. The giving birth to songs of the heart, to the melody of a soul wanting to dive, head first, into love. So listen to the song, but more so, look at the image and if you can see what I see, you'll know me as I am and I hope, you'll come along for the ride. :-)
6 comments:
I am there, sitting next to you, holding your hand, smiling, laughing, and looking at you. One question, where are we going? Nevermind. it doesn't even matter. You say you want this, you deserve this. You deserve peace, hope and true happiness. Open your heart and follow your dreams, wherever they may lead you.
sigh
TIGHT HUGS/MWAH/XOXOXOXO
hH
Well, if you are that close, stand behind me and massage my shoulders. That muscle is still twisted and the pain endures. Rub it like you mean it. :-D
Pull over and climb into the backseat, I;ll takes care of those twisted muscles. ;-)
Very moving, the song is lovely, words written so touching. Your sentiments in regard to the photograph. One thing I have always loved about you, that I find so inspiring, is your open heart, your expression of your heart's desire, your willingness to give of yourself, of your heart, and therefore anyone who has spent anytime with you, even us that know you only from here, would wish for you all that you wish for yourself. You do, in all your writing, here too, write of a togetherness that we all long for, I do believe as always that your writing is 'universal', direct, simple, in the way that it does this and thus not only are we touched by what you say, hearing your thoughts, hearing your emotion/thoughts/sentiments, feeling your heart through your awe-inspiring ability to show it to us, but you evoke in us our dreams too.
I love what I see in this picture. And I love this about you, this post, what you see (Heaven), what you feel, what you say.
(In my bar, I have still a button that will take me to every 1944 post. I have meant to read them and to write for those that I have not yet written for. You are very right in what you have said here, they were exceptional, and today even more, I know I must read soon.)
I tend, in a Blakean way, to see the world in a grain of sand.
To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour.
To write properly, I need uninterrupted time, not much, but enough to get into the flow and ride the post from start to finish. At last, even the ten minutes I need seems like a mirage on the desert of my life, just needing peace and quiet and it just damn seems impossible. The post above could and should be so much more. Sigh.
As always my dearest Sunshine, your kind words are the world to me even though a world separates us--and I think, but the writing transcends the distance and we enter a space universal, as you say. :-)
Oh but I'm aching to get back to 1944. I may need to dive into the middle of the story and let the end, as we last saw it, sit awhile longer. So many of her days in early 1945 are undocumented. I miss her very much, even more now with distance. I hope she's okay. ;-)
Post a Comment