A woman sits in the window of a coffee shop, gazing reflectively outward while looking pensively within. Her dreams go up like prayer flags.
Outside the coffee shop where the woman sits thinking, a motorized wheel chair, bedecked with prayer flags, sits abandonned. Perhaps it's the woman's chair and her long-standing prayers have been answered. Maybe she's not yet ready to walk away from that former identity and those familiar boundaries.
Down at the village dump, an old typewriter lies abandonned. What poems, letters to the editor, resumés, love letters, notices of resignation, unpublished novels and brilliant essays did it help create before all the ideas and ideals became outmoded?
Did the passion that went into forming all those words to describe the indescribable burn itself out? Did the writer move on, move out, move up to realize his long-held prayer of being recognized, or simply walk away from that dream and never look back?
When one dream is fulfilled or a prayer granted, how many others rush in to take its place?
Such a lovely post. I still have my great-Aunt's typewriter and altho' the ribbon should have been replaced a hundred poems ago there is nothing quite like that clakety clack sound that you get from using it! I could never biff it out, my youngest daughter likes to use it too.
ReplyDeleteYes, nothing quite like those good old clackety-clackers (except when one had to make corrections on the carbon copies). My grandfather used to have one that typed all caps (it was used for writing telegraphs) which would never do today as we'd all be accused of SHOUTING!
ReplyDeleteWV: keypi
That old machine of your Great Aunt's is definitely a keypi!
What a coincidence, as yesterday I found an old Remington typewriter on a local flea-market, not daring to ask for the prices, yet I took a picture (soon).
ReplyDeleteThought first you went to the Himalaya...how very nice to see that there are such prayer flags across the world.
Back home in Germany students are taught to learn to write with ten fingers; me, still writing on a type-writer, nowadays they use computers ;)
As we all here, trying to find a "direction pointing towards home and hope". A wonderful weekend for you all.
That certainly is a coincidence, Robert, about you seeing a typewriter yesterday and taking a picture and then seeing the one here! Are we on the same wavelength? Does blogging connect people in unimaginable ways?
ReplyDeleteYour words about trying to find a direction towards home and hope ring truer with me than you could possibly know at this point! Another instance of blogging on the same wavelength.
I wish a beautiful weekend to you.
Hey Big Sis, ah how nice to see the Saj back out and around, it was quiet without her, eh?
ReplyDeleteWhat a good trip you're on here, I like it, I like it. And I like wrecked typewriters too. Perhaps you'll recall, or perhaps not, the Remington Road Test post I did a while back about an old typewriter, and remarking that there was a book done long ago titled Remington Road Test, with photos documenting the throwing of a typewriter out of a car at high speed, and how it came to rest in the desert... does that ring a bell ? Love your typewriter here, both versions... at first I thought you must have set fire to it...
PS WV is "jifixed" as in, "Is jifixed now, can I use it again ?"
Hey BrOwen,
ReplyDeleteYes, of course I remember your tossed typewriter episode. I actually thought of you and that blog post when I came across the typewriter down at the dump. It tickles me (hee hee hee) that you first thought I'd set fire to the typewriter here. I just loved that effect when it popped up from the bag of Photoshop tricks.
Yes, blog life is definitely more interesting with our sister Saj around.
WV: hosia
Hosia doin' BrO?
wow love that abandoned typewriter - it looks soooooooo archaic - when did that happen that typewriters became so thoroughly oboselete??
ReplyDeleteI think, Catherine, that as with most things in life the obsolescence happened when we were busy being dazzled by the shiny new toys.
ReplyDeleteHosia hosia, hosanna hosanna, yo bro is doin'fine, hallejulah praise the lord and pass the ammo... I should have guessed you'd remember, with that memory of yours !
ReplyDeleteBrOwen,
ReplyDeleteMy memory is like a good Swiss cheese, strong but with a tendency for holes.
WV: paild
After 2 weeks back home from his tropical isle vacation, Owen's sun tan had noticeably paild.