My Story


My Story:

After the illness and death of our only daughter, my husband and I decided to rent a boat and go sailing in the gulf of Mexico for a month. This is where, on New Year's Day 2005, we were caught in a storm, shipwrecked and my husband drowned. I have been on this island, which seems to be caught in some kind of portal or other dimension, ever since, free to explore philosophical and spiritual thoughts, yet physically unable to leave.

Other characters seem to be able to come and go as they please however, as I have met a few of them since being here. They visit me every once in awhile. Aquaman and Gypsy Queen were the first to appear. Gollum showed up after, then came El Alejandro and Stick-Paul, into whose dimension I was able to go a few hours before being pulled back to my island. More recently, Mr. Tumnus has been around.

Other than rare visits from these characters, I have the constant chattering of monkeys and sqawking of parrots to fill my days.

Every once in awhile, when the wind is just right, and I am able to power up the make-shift generator I made (I am handy aren't I?), charge my satelite phone, which has internet access (even out here), I am able to post a little something on my current life as a shipwrecked woman. Don't bother trying to rescue me just yet. I doubt you'd find me anyway. This seems to be one of those Bermuda Triangle things. I'm not sure I'm even in the same dimension anymore. But hey, the satelite phone still works, how cool is that?



Thursday, March 17, 2005

Alone but not Lonely...

On my island I have no husband, I have no children, I have no job, no errands to run... I am alone, but not lonely. I eat coconuts and go fishing. I sweep the dirt floor of my hut and then my housecleaning is done because I have so little that there is very little to clean. I have a few visitors from time to time, Aquaman and the Gypsy Queen,... but mostly I am alone, except for the parrots. There are parrots on my island. They fly around squawking and I do not have the patience to try to teach them to speak.

I have time for painting on my island, and noone to get into my stuff while I am at it. I draw and I paint. I am an artist in my soul. I write poetry and then I rip it up and burn it in the fire if I don't like it which I often do not.

I have no phone, (except for my satelite phone, which needs to be charged), and mail is never delivered to my island.

The sun is shining today. I am alone, I have not had a visit in awhile. The parrots are doing their thing, and I am breathing poetry, but I do not write it except in the sand with a stick where the waves and the tide will eventually do away with it.

I have loved and I have been loved, this is what is important. I am at peace. I close my eyes and the smell the salt air and feel the breeze on my face and tugging at my hair. Here, there is nothing unnecessary, life is simple.

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