PROSE, POETRY AND MIGRATION.

Wing Song oil on canvas  83x168 cm Nada Murphy 2013

Others are with their friends and family this day and our writer’s group has become company. 

I read out loud and I will stumble before I get my stride and slow to the pace of the words. 

My friend listens, and will simply respond “wow” , She says I am revealing more of myself in my words. 

Yes, this is more personal writing I am happy to share with her.

Her own words are always evocative of emotion as she juxtaposes the tug between “her angels and devils” burning down to the core of being.   Not simply well chosen but felt.

There is more in this too. There is a layer of events that trigger the flow.

The manuscript another has offered starts with the writers musing over how to start the story and starts a world away. The text is full of idiom and stands translation for my friend, who is not working in her first language. 

We wander into stories of travel from far-away places where our roots were established before moving in our hearts.  Tribal and self protective communities or contemporary life where there is a

lot of movement? People have been moving for eons travelling from one side of this spinning existence to the other . Otherwise there would be no such thing as a colony, or perhaps it is an enclave in this foreign place?

Nothing new. 

You can respond with curiosity, openness, and generosity, then learn, or close the doors.