Long slender fingers with unsightly large joints.
Flexible. Too flexible. Tips curved up slightly.
Always chewed and bitten. Cuticles, not nails.
Now with scars from gardening. From cooking. From art.
Now spotted from brilliant sun light while biking. While kayaking.
Now wrinkled from years passing.
Quickly. Far too quickly.
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I’m a lifelong Democrat who loves my country. I’m definitely a liberal. In all my years, I don’t believe that I have ever met someone who wants to take away all guns. They are out there I’m sure but most lefties like me want some common sense changes.
I want guns and accessories with some features regulated. Brand name and the look of the gun makes absolutely no difference to me. You are right, the hunting rifle with it’s wood finish looks traditional and yet does exactly the same thing.
Here’s what I want: Reduce the number of rounds before reloading. Reduce the number of shots a person can fire per minute. Eliminate gun show and private sale loopholes. Improve the background checks process. Ensure that violent behaviors such as domestic violence are reported. Provide a mechanism for families to be able to address suicidal family members. Too many veterans are lost because trauma left them suicidal and they had access to a gun during their darkest hour.
I think some conservatives like yourself could collaborate with us lefties on a few common sense solutions.
Please help me remember a time when we could work together.
Once, our people valued compromise. Differences in opinion were not reasons to scream insults. There was power in restraint and a common code of decency.
Please tell me that my hindsight is not just rosy nostalgia.
Part rosy and part true. Our people have a history of hate and bigotry. Waves of white supremacy have swept through our country. So many people lost their lives and livelihood to weak people driven by hate. Over and over again, the bigots have been defeated when decent people unite.
Please tell me how the old battles were won.
Many people spoke up and stood side by side. Many people risked everything to speak against hate. The risks were high but the cost of being agreeable in disagreeable times is too much to accept.
Please tell me everything will be okay.
There’s good reason to hope.
The marginalized voices have much to say. Are you ready to listen? They are ready to lead. Are you ready to follow?
The conference room was glorious. One wall of windows looked onto the bay. White sails sparked on the brilliant blue water. A pastel patchwork of houses adorned the hills. From here the city looked pristine.
Of course, she knew that appearances can be deceiving. People love to believe in the smooth glossy perfection.
She gave them what they wanted. Curls tamed into a smooth professional spunky bob. That horrible hand drawn tattoo on her collarbone expertly concealed with scar hiding make up.
She chose a cream suit, the only concession to the artfulness of her page existence was an on trend silk blouse. Gone were the layers of jewelry that brought music to every gesture. Gone were the long auburn curls and the brightly layered scarves, blouses and skirts.
The bird of paradise was now a appeared to be a dove.
Oh who was she kidding. She was never a bird of paradise, she was a raptor. A soaring raptor who caught the up drafts and soared high over the golden headlands seeking pray in the fog cooled earth below.
Today’s prompt inspired me to rewrite the opening of a longer piece.
The library was out of free glasses. Every store for miles was sold out. I moped around with no desire to look at shadows. The clouds rolled in.
I looked away and lined and used my sunglasses to shield my phone camera lens.
Some how the combination captured a reflection of the partial solar eclipse. You can see the crescent in the darkest part of the cloud.
With a little imagination, we can do anything.
No more spoon fed ideas!
Puréed politics is as unpalatable as over-cooked carrots spun through the food processor.
Talking heads in 1950s suits telling us what to think is so retro (and not in a good way like that mid-century modern you’ve been eying).
If your words are sharp, short and fire rapidly, think for a moment: have you heard this before, in exactly this way. If you have you know you have been memified.
Let everyone know, our brains are not empty waiting to be filled with their memes that crowd out original thought. Imagination needs the space that the memes take up. So throw them away like moldy cheese.
We have been playing it too safe. Think of your worst ideas.
The worse the better.
For brilliance rises not in the safety of acceptable ideas that carry no risk. Brilliance bursts into life from outrageous ill conceived unconventional thoughtS.
Failed ideas are the food of the precious few.
You cannot fail if you open a void
By now, most of us have seen the sketch that went viral. In spite of its simplicity (or because of it) a thief was caught. I get it. A few lines and a couple of dots captured the visual essence of a man.
Less is more in the detective business.
Saturday over breakfast, my son and I decided to throw our towel into the forensic artist business.
I offer the following sketch to my lovely neighbors in case their dog should go out galavanting and get lost on their way home.
You would surely recognize their dog at a glance if posted on any poster.
Please understand I have complete faith in the careful puppy parenting of our neighbors. I anticipate that this image will never be needed for anything greater than my own portfolio.
I also present my talented son’s forensic sketch.
He is seeking a long lost friend from kindergarten.
The image is a good likeness though perhaps less effective than my own.
I do not mean to throw my son under the bus but if a position for a forensic artist becomes available, I am the better candidate for the job. Our family would be better served by an income spent on food than an income spent on the latest and greatest hockey sticks.