Tags

, , , , , ,

For those of you who don’t know I am embarking on a creative endeavor of expression through my writing. I have been spending a great deal of time over the past year in meditation and practice. For so very long I have feared writing. Feared the vulnerability of revealing my inability to express myself through written word. In the writing of the EBAS manuals and the book “Shaping the Creative Space”, I have come to realize that perhaps I do have something to share and that if I can find the courage to write, I could. So I have.

The interesting thing about this process is that I have begun to understand my voice as a writer and ironically deepen my voice as a choreographer and teacher. The written word seems to be creating a bridge from my brain to my heart allowing for a deeper expression and consciousness that feels like tapping back into something much larger than the isolated self. Ironically, the spending of alone self time to write and practice the art of writing seems to be reconnecting the self back to the whole. A collection of words artfully placed with the vibrations of the heart make connections in ways the right brain simple cannot manufacture.

It is with great pleasure that I share with you my desire and goal of writing novels as well as, with permission of my creative partner from the story below, lay down the children’s stories we wrote so very long ago. It is with pleasure to share this little tid bit of writing as it reminds me of the ability to love, be loved and share love in a creative and compassionate way. We are capable of bliss. Daily bliss. Enjoy!

This Night

It is a rather cold and windy February winters night. The wind sweeps in off the lake three blocks to rattle the windows that run along two sides of the third floor apartment we are share. It is rather late and both of us are eager to crawl into bed so as to intertwine our limbs and share the energy and heat of our bodies as we nest on this crisp black night. Just the very thought of weaving our bodies together fills my spirit with warmth that somehow always manages to keep the cold at bay.

Despite the cold the two of us begin removing our winter wear as we share an intimate moment of revealing ourselves to one another. I love watching you undress as it always takes my breath away to see the magnificence of your angelic body tattooed with butterflies and fairies. I marvel at the dichotomy of the tattoo and the sweetness and magic of its imagery. It is the very thing that draws me closer and closer to your heart while at the same time driving my insatiable desire of your flesh.

Both of us naked we fold down the covers revealing the sacred place of our rooting. This space is the space of our entanglement and the garden of our sensual and carnal pleasures. Somehow there is always a glimmer in our eyes as our raw bodies crawl into this shared cocoon. Perhaps after sharing the night in this chrysalis we too shall emerge in the morning as butterfly lovers.

This night we find ourselves sliding between one another and folding ourselves together for an embrace to melt our hearts. This night we lay there facing the ceiling of clouds as we float in the cerulean room of dreams. This night we, for some reason, begin to share stories. I start by laying down the first few lines. You pick up where I leave off to deepen the plot and develop the characters. We pass this tale back and forth along with our giggles, sighs and sweet kisses. It is this night we begin what is to become a ritual for us on nights when we need a breath from the passionate love making and the escape from our daily lives.

It is this night that ironically begins the foundation and process of our children’s stories. It is a collection of collective story telling between two lovers. Two lovers with the hearts of children and the imaginations of dreamers weaving tales of magic, love and wonder as our naked bodies lay under the covers like roots from the creative tree of life. It seems rather poetic that two lovers in sensual embrace could mystically craft these beautiful children’s stories. Perhaps this naked vulnerability is the recipe for creative flow allowing for a primal connection while tapping into the greater creative collected consciousness.

It is this night that I fall in love with you again. A night where I realize that no matter how bitter cold the evening outside you will always be the warmth in my soul keeping the magic alive. And it is this night that will etch its imagery like the tattoos on your skin onto the walls of my heart. Two butterfly lovers keeping my heart a flight.