Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part fifteen

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part fifteen

Continuing on from as if hidden, you are this, part fourteen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I shoot an arrow and it comes back to me.

...are you a memory?

You are the memory I have known all my life. You float on a cloud, sometimes white, other times invisible. Clouded, yet not. You are me. You surround me with invisibility—a strength that shields.

A driving force building words of sentences of stories of dreams. You are a block that I carefully hold in one hand, and with one eye, as I watch the mountain grow with the other.

What defines us is how well we rise after falling.

Surrounded in a hue, you mumble, “I found it.” And then you float away, ghostlike.

I miss you, ghost.

[Next in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part twelve

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part twelve

carve your way to that which makes you feel alive

Continuing on from i had no idea, part eleven in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I never knew until then that I would thank you.

...a thought process

Is it a heart or mind that is captured when a story comes to live on the screen as if concocted as typed? A memory or imagery merges—paints itself across the screen as envisioned—with feelings and colors from a world that doesn’t quite exist, yet does.

And why is it that the light that shines now is any less real than the skin on my fingertips? The light illuminates what is normally dormant, overlooked, passé.

It’s as if the unspoken words say,

thank you for helping me in ways I never could have imagined. You brought me to life. Now alive with purpose, I create, evolve and make dreams come true.

I love to create you too. Wherever you are, close your eyes and pretend you are with me. Even if you are not, in some way you still are. It works. Seriously.

Can’t you carve out a better way for yourself than what you currently allow to drive you?

Yes, but I don’t know how.

Just do it in the same way you’d carve a stone to feel your way to me. I listen. So will they.

Image source: play gallery

[Next on Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part ten

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part ten

memories of a heart

Continuing on from green and blue light, part nine in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I hear you thinking.

...you are

Your tapestry speaks of histories, of memories, and of dreams once lived yet maybe not. You are a heart that I have won. Even my nervous and tender sentences do not put a dent in your undying craze over me.

Sand blows as mountains built over time, over years of wondering and knowing how we would be.

My silence is an intoxicting place of refuge—of rest—for us to swim in. Between us lies a journey of rivers and ripples that have yet to settle into their form.

Image source: Alex Theory

[Next on Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

One glass of wine: Wine enthusiast, wine industry expertise

with just one sip, i believe...The thoughts that come to me when I am into you.

Even after just one sip.

...Of memories.

...Of dreams.

Relax with me into the soul of who you are.

Inspire me as you feel your inhibitions slowly drop and your cheer—as red grapes—take their place.

It's a beautiful life, you know.

I am a wine enthusiast. Let me write for you in your wine industry. I travel too.

© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part eight

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part eight

birds flying. image by Frank Godwin

Continuing on from when your insides melt, part seven of Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, what is inside you when you feel like melting?

...and now, surrender

I surrender now to you. To you, and to the powers that be that will make my dreams come true in a second once I let go. To you I speak…

Silence holds much power now. To harness words into mindful imagery, which taste of all the memories we have savored. And from there, to be in a state of delight known only to the birds that fly above the winds that traverse through mountain passes.

Why do I surrender now? Because to hold on is to count every moment, every breath. Do you actually hear me now in this moment, transferred to you somehow? You do.

image source: Frank Godwin

[Next in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part seven

Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part seven

of time, of you

Continuing on from i see now in your mind, part six of Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, the way you are looking at me now creates an incredible story in me.

...when your insides melt

What is inside you when you feel like melting? Are the particles of you floating eloquently in space aimlessly, or alive… waiting to pounce? You remind me of a memory where the bubbles of time enter without a cue, knowing their place. As rain trickles down, you feel your shield disarm and instead embrace the piercing of each drop.

I gave myself unknowingly, yet trusting. I knew I too needed to be healed.

[Next in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series]

© 2013 R.E.L. Copywriting

Walk through the vestibule: Sounds and sights as benchmarks

You have, I'm sure, had the experience at one time in your life of forgetting what you were doing as soon as you entered another room. Do doorways actually serve as event boundaries or is one's ability to remember linked to the environment in which a decision was created?

True, research has shown that environmental factors affect memory and that information learned in one environment is retrieved better when the retrieval occurs in the same context. The act of passing through a doorway, however, serves as a way the mind files away memories.

Walk through the vesibule into your new home and feel yourself enter into a new world full of possibilities—new thoughts, sounds, visions. 

Your life is interpretted by a cacophony of sounds, sights and feelings, whether in the forefront or background of your days. From city streets to your own old house. As time passes, you get used to it all, and allow chaos to blend into your life. By tuning out that which takes over your senses of distraction, you keep the melodious qualities that bring music to your ears.

Click to read more ...

A fine ordinary moment, morning coffee

Dear fine moment... my first few sips of coffee,

You change my life. You hold a memory of all other days, alive with transitions from dreamy to present.

As the fog clears, starry-eyed, I begin to plan my day in a fine moment.

You witness me as my dreams come to mind, as I walk in the shadows of time becoming conscious.

And in the peace of my home before the storm, children sleeping, cats purring, sun rising, even though you don't last long, you help me realize...

That fine moments in life exist...

p.s. Red wine, you too have your moments.

© 2011 R.E.L. Copywriting