Wild ponies of words escape their corral!

Good morning, dear reader!  Good morning!

Oh thank goodness, I can speak again.

I bounded out of bed faster than you can imagine, delighted with the prospect of blogging with words after a month of posting only photographs.  Click here to read about that commitment.

Ahhh…to be able to communicate in beloved words!  To allow words to dance, to sing, to laugh, to pray, to ponder, to jump in cold lakes and swim.

How I love words!  They sizzle, they puff, they crackle like fireworks in colors in the sky.  They ignite my heart.  I always watch awe-struck to see what words will emerge from the typing fingers.

At eight years old I wrote my first poem called “Robin”.  Mrs. Story, my third grade teacher (oh, don’t you love her name?) urged me to read it to the class.  Shy, quivering, I recited the words while the students listened.

In fourth grade, I wrote my first 123-page book.  It was the story of Gretel, escaping from the Nazis in Germany.  She scurried from castle to castle, although my memory refuses to recall the specifics of this elementary escapade.  I tried to re-read the story several years ago and marveled at the terrible, but heartfelt writing.

Then came the little red typewriter as a Christmas gift.  I spent the rest of childhood behind closed bedroom doors writing stories after stories which never seemed to come to conclusion.  A novel from the point of view of young King David.  An Amish girl who fell in love with a non-Amish fellow and was banished from the sect.  A trillion poems so deep in teenage angst that you could barely surface into meaning.

My mother–bless you, Mom!–listened to most of these words (at least in the early years) and nodded her encouragement and appreciation.

A teacher once said, “Why don’t you write about something you know about?” as I waxed enthusiastically about the Amish banishment.

I didn’t think I knew about anything.

OK, OK, back to this last month.  The wild words were roped and corralled and told to stay by the barn and eat hay.  The photographs were in charge.

Oh, reader, guess what the best part of posting photographs (and not words) was for this blog writer?

The internal story-teller finally shut up.  (Sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to use those evil words:  shut up.)

Ahhh, blessed silence in the mind!  The roaring river of internal words trickled to a stream.  The mind became clear, silent, transparent. 

The photographs told their stories.  You posted them and you could forget them.  I am not attached to photos like words.  My heart doesn’t usually sizzle and dance with photographs.  I am always amazed when people even like ’em.  I will gladly post a blurred photo if it tells a story, because the story seems more important than the quality of the photograph.

And–sigh–it still seems impossible to read the photography manual and figure out what professionals do.  Much more fun to intuit–OK, sometimes to peek at the photography instructions–and people seem to like the pictures.

The photography-only month was Wonderful.  It didn’t even feel like blogging.  It felt like blogging at half steam.  The visual people applauded.  Ahhh—photos, they said, thank you, we’re enjoying this!   The word people kinda stayed low-key.  Those who like both words and pictures adjusted.

I had maybe three desperate days in which the words threatened to break the commitment.  They felt lonely, heart-broken, ignored. 

But the inner silence enjoyed itself. 

Not responding to comments also proved both a positive and negative experience.  It was positive because I suddenly felt free, expansive!  No longer required to respond to every comment.  Yet I also missed the daily conversations with blogging friends, the give-and-take of saying “howdy, how you doing, I hear what you’re saying.”  The easy back-and-forth.

However, I did get to comment on other blogs more frequently than usual.  Instead of replying here on the comments, I skipped on over and read more other blogs, letting a few words trickle out here and there.

OK, dear word-lovers, even you are probably getting tired of reading after almost 800 words escape their corral!  The wild ponies of words are running toward the mountains, their freedom finally gained.  The pintos, with their black and white spots, have turned into sentences and even paragraphs. 

We’re free!  they proclaim, and they gallop ecstatically toward the next blog.  (In which, OK, I promise, you’ll get to see photographs again.  Words and photographs.)

About Kathy

I live in the middle of the woods in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Next to Lake Superior's cold shores. I love to blog.
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54 Responses to Wild ponies of words escape their corral!

  1. Reggie says:

    You are hysterically funny, Kathy! I’m giggling with you, as I see your wild ponies of words gallopping across the prairies, high-kicking their legs, play-nipping each other, and whinnying with exuberance! 😀

    Nice to have you back, girl.

    • Kathy says:

      Reggie, hello! I could see them perfectly too, those word-ponies. Who would have thought, upon arising, that the first speaking blog post would be about ponies? Not me. tee hee, such fun, to be writing again!

      • Reggie says:

        Although I too loved seeing the photos and your captions, and enjoyed the quiet times with you, it is also very, very nice that you are writing again. The combination is what makes the magic happen.

  2. Susan Derozier says:

    AT LAST! We can now get your “inside” as well as your “outside.” Your discipline has been a lesson for we who cherish all our senses. If only we could hear your voice reading your words as we view your photos…now that would be perfect! Welcome back you wild ponies! We’ve missed you!

    • Kathy says:

      Hi there, Susan D, and how I loved how you expressed that! Our outside versus our inside. How wonderful! Then there is no real separation, only different parts of ourselves coming forth to express. I am scurrying looking at old comments–your medical tests did come out OK, didn’t they? So hoping they did…

      • Kathy says:

        Oh, just found it in the Paris blog. It’s not me that’s magic~~but don’t you think that sometimes in between the words and photos that magic does shine through? (I know it shines through your comments and those of many others here, too.)

  3. As I read your words, I can just picture you with a big smile on your face, the fingers flying over the keyboard, thoughts racing, maybe even saying some of the sentences out loud – am I close?? 😉

    Welcome back, Kathy!! Your photos DO tell stories, and I always enjoy seeing them, but your words were missed!! 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      Ha ha, Holly, are you suggesting that I talk to myself out loud? tee hee! I do sometimes…but not today. The fingers were flyin’ too fast in absolute delight! Besides I had to finish quickly and get out to work at the school. Thanks for missing the words. The little word-fellows are jumping up and down in delight at your sentence.

  4. holessence says:

    Delicious, beautiful, glorious words

  5. Dawn says:

    Glad the words escaped and you feel better! 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      Jeez, Dawn, it was a challenge. Of course, the photographs are now sniffing their noses in the air and are quite annoyed by the words. They LOVED their shine in the spotlight. They wonder why words need to exist as all. Children, children, I keep telling them. Don’t squabble. There’s room for both in this great wonderful world!

  6. Elisa's Spot says:

    whew! babbling brook! 😀

  7. Karma says:

    Welcome back, words! I love your photos, but I like them best along with your stories.

    • Kathy says:

      Both the words and the photographs feel much better with your words (hmmm….that sounds a little one-sided, lol) But thank you, Karen, and by gosh, it was a fun month–who cares if the wild ponies had to eat a little hay?

  8. Susan D says:

    I could still “hear” your words through your photos and captions. There is no silencing the “all” of you. Either that, or you’re just stuck in my head forever. And I love it that way 🙂 Giddy up! And I do mean “giddy” …. yeehaw!

    • Kathy says:

      OK, it’s official. We’re stuck in each other’s heads forevermore. LOL! See, why do people even need to get together? Their spirit remains and you can hear their intonations and see their gestures. RIDE ‘EM COWBOYS!!!

  9. bearyweather says:

    Welcome back to “wordy” communication.

    • Kathy says:

      Bearyweather, it is such a delight, thank you! (Although, who knows, you never know about these things, perhaps the photographs are already plotting their revenge and may take over again!!)

  10. Brenda Hardie says:

    Welcome back wild ponies!! I love what Susan D. said…it fits exactly how I feel, along with what Karma said. Everyone’s comments are so clever, mine are plain and simple…welcome back wild ponies..I missed you. 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      Brenda, Brenda, Brenda! Cleverness is as cleverness does. Plain and simple words sometimes contain as much (or more) spirit and ooomph and love and caring and participation than the cleverest of the little ponies. Never hesitate to jump on one of those ponies and ride! Never hesitate to add the simplest of words. We need ALL ponies to make a rodeo. (Shall I quit attempting to be funny now?)

  11. Carol says:

    Your photographs speak loudly. Your words also speak clearly, often softly, sometimes loudly, often provoking thinking. Yes, real thinking! Either way you go, I’m happy.

  12. Colleen says:

    Kathy, I’m glad your words are back!! I am unabashedly a word person and as gorgeous as your photo stories were, found myself reading your captions first… which seemed to grow longer as the weeks went by, maybe just my imagination, or a smidgeon of wishful thinking. Also appreciating those story-telling blog titles. And you 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      The word person self is absolutely over the edge with your comment, Colleen! 🙂 That word person self…gosh, shouldn’t she be celebrating the silence that outlines words as well as the words themselves? Smile… thank you for your support & love which bubbles through between every word.

  13. Barbara Rodgers says:

    Words and pictures, love them together, the best of both worlds, especially from you!

    • Kathy says:

      The world of non-duality, Barbara, in which words and pictures can dance together! Loving it…that the words can have their say and the pictures can have their say and everything can dance together. (I am watching Dancing at Lughnasa as we speak!)

      • Barbara Rodgers says:

        Hope you will let me know how you liked “Dancing at Lughnasa.” I’m amazed you can watch a movie and blog at the same time!

        • Kathy says:

          No, Barbara, I wasn’t actually watching at the exact moment I replied to your comment. I turned off the DVD and went to respond to a few comments before turning it on again to watch. I liked the movie tremendously! Except it was very sad at the end…wish it hadn’t ended on such a sad note…but suppose life is like that sometimes. The quiet simplicity and camaraderie and beauty of Ireland was a gift. The way people worked together back then. The complexity of the characters…it was a good movie to watch. Thank you for your recommendation so much!

  14. Your post really made me smile 🙂 I can just hear your excitement in these words 🙂

    • Kathy says:

      Gosh, Ms. Michaela, I was so excited yesterday! It was worth it, maybe, to photo-only for a month, just to have this child-like excitement sprout its wings. 🙂

  15. Dawn says:

    Either way you decide to communicate I enjoy it. Even if I don’t comment so often lately…it’s not that it was photos…it was just that I’ve been so busy…have to say though that I’m a word person who likes a few photos to go along…except when I’m a photo person… wait. No I’m confused. LOL!

    • Kathy says:

      Ha ha, Dawn, I always confuse myself with this issue, too. Maybe none of us are strict word or picture people. Maybe we’re more or less inclined one way or another, but we can go either way. I do like pictures tremendously. It’s just that my heart doesn’t sizzle when I post pics. It sizzles when words birth themselves.

  16. Martha Bergin says:

    17. (are we ‘spozed to be numbering these?) Welcome back to your beautiful words! There are many things I value about your words, but mostly they are words of discernment. You see things clearly, notice distinctions, subtle differences, possibilities I would miss.

    • Kathy says:

      No, no, no numbering required. Unless you like to! Smile. I like numbers. But WordPress numbers them automatically. I LOVE what you said about being discerning. My discerning self is jumping up and down in delight. The undiscerning part…well it’s happy, too, because it TRIES. I am always looking at subtle differences and distinctions that most people ignore. however, it’s impossible to notice if someone gets a new haircut or redecorates their kitchen.

  17. Claire says:

    Words have always been my friend too. It used to be prose but now as you see I have found that poetry and am having a ball with it. Everywhere I go a poem seems to want to be conjured up and created which I do so gladly and post the finished article for the world to see if they care to. I do feel that words written are words that are to be shared. I loved this post and can feel your enthusiasm bubbling over as you were committing it to your blog. I am loving your blog.

    • Kathy says:

      Claire, I have enjoyed reading your poems, too! How fun that your words are choosing to express themselves in poetry rather than prose now. I have trouble commenting about poems though. They are such tricky metaphors pulling us in so many different directions that sometimes you just want to nod your head and say, “Yes. Yes to all of it. Yes.”

  18. Elle says:

    Well welcome back with all your words. I loved the pictures. I love your words too though…you combine them so well to make such wonderful mind pictures!

  19. Geoff Geary says:

    I do prefer your words with your pictures as they explain a little more how/why/where you took the photo and the emotional context. However, in the case of the pictures you took of the decaying buildings, the pictures themselves told the story. They were evocative enough without the necesity of comment.

    • Kathy says:

      Oh yes, Geoff, pictures can tell stories admirably by themselves, without any commentary. (If you ask them, I suspect they sometimes prefer that. That way people can provide the commentary themselves.) It’s good to be aware when the pictures want to tell their own stories and when commentary is necessary. That’s hard for me, though, when I love words so dearly.

  20. Robin says:

    I enjoy both your words and your pictures. Both tell stories to me. 🙂

  21. Barb says:

    I’m still trying to decide for myself: word or story? I like it both ways. I like you both ways, too.

  22. An interesting month, none the less, summer lends itself to many events and natural beauty. You certainly DO change things up, unexpectedly! It is fun to see what you are going to do NEXT!!

    • Kathy says:

      Aren’t you right, Jane? Summer is the most delightful month for Possibilities. And, yes, I do like to change things up unexpectedly. One never knows. Like you, I’m always kept guessing. 🙂

  23. bonnie says:

    Loved the photos, and am looking forward to your words.

    • Kathy says:

      Thank you, Bonnie. (And don’t worry, the photos keep making their appearances–like the other day with the county fair. The photos will not be kept down! **grin**)

Thank you for reading. May you be blessed in your life...may you find joy in the simple things...

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