One of my favorite things about your writing is that it’s incredibly personal, but there’s something about the specificity that allows me, as a reader, to drop into my own memories (like that of first love!). Not just anyone can pull that trick off.
Kimberly, an amazing writer you are! The music especially caught my attention.
"I turn the volume dial up on the car radio. Jimmy Hendrix, Astrud Gilberto, and Miles Davis deliver me back into his arms."
Music is often my escape. It can guide my thoughts, tune or amplify my emotions, take me to distant places, and at times I use it to drown out thoughts that I just don't want to deal with. In my latest installment I include a very poignant quote from
Courtney Peppernell
"Is that why you play your music so loud? A beat to drown out your thoughts, sound so high you cannot think, lyrics so close to home you don't even blink."
Now you have me googling Courtney Peppernell! Is it wrong that I don't know her? What a great quote. Thanks as always, for your encouraging remarks. This one was quite vulnerable to share so I appreciate the high five!
"vulnerable" I absolutely cringe every week when I hit the publish button on a new installment! your vulnerableness, is that a word? Lol comes through in your writing and that's what I think makes it so readable. You're just being you and that's cool.
About Courtney Peppernell, I just sort of stumbled on her one day not sure what I was search for but her website popped up. But I found many of her quotes helped me somehow. Like this one...
“One day, you will find a home, and it won’t be a place, it will be a person.
And you will be loved in spite of all the baggage and boxes you bring with you. ”
— I HOPE YOU STAY, Courtney Peppernell
This is on her website but I think this "...it won't be a place, it will be a person." is referring to oneself. When you find yourself you'll be home and there is no baggage as what you thought was baggage is really all the fantastical things that made you who you are today. You are you and unique and fabulous and Gods gift. That's the ultimate self-love!
This was exquisite, Kimberly. Experiencing love in the throes of grief with the right person is wondrous. A salve for an unbearable wound.
This made me feel like I was invited to a secret dance, listening to a secret language that only two lovers can know. I love envisioning your life through your words. Such a gift you have bestowed upon us. Thank you.
Wow! This writing is gorgeous. “As I pull away, Earth’s female population obliterated, I savor the ash still on my lips.” The rivers of corn, the shapes carved through the window, the eyes secretly escorting him to his seat. And then that beautiful letter.
‘The paradox of heartache.’ Beautifully captured with tenderness and such deep love. Thank you. Now I’m gonna stir the pot a little bit—You describe the single blue light in Ale’s room and the single sodium vapor bulb in Charlie’s parking lot fight. You also casually mention you lost your virginity in Ale’s room. (!) And I wanted to hear more about that tender experience, especially in contrast to Charlie’s experience under a single bulb. Too personal? Maybe. But I’ll bet you can paint the image in a way that doesn’t feel like TMI.
Once again, you're seeing things that I didn't even see myself. The blue bulb in Ale's bedroom and the single bulb in my letter to Charlie—both written at very different times and even an afterthought for me to include that letter in this chapter. Creativity is funny that way, even when I was making narrative films, the impulse and process were often amputated from my logical, executive functioning. It was only later that viewers would point out connections and revelations. And your nudge to share the loss of virginity? Challenge accepted! Though if I'm honest, I recall little from the POV of my body. No surprise there. But if I allow my cells to recall from Ale's POV? Clear as day.
"In a dangerous instant, the doors of my heart are thrown open and Ale walks in."
the synchrony of this is incredible. And your memories so raw, tender, the grieving heart fluttering from leaving Ale to Jenny leaving, to the Blue Jamaica mix-tape music ~ those music tapes we had to carry us through heartache...
One of my favorite things about your writing is that it’s incredibly personal, but there’s something about the specificity that allows me, as a reader, to drop into my own memories (like that of first love!). Not just anyone can pull that trick off.
I think you've officially identified a high-side to being an overly porous, people-pleasing chameleon! ;)
I mean, there's got to be *some* upside, right?! 🙃
Kimberly, an amazing writer you are! The music especially caught my attention.
"I turn the volume dial up on the car radio. Jimmy Hendrix, Astrud Gilberto, and Miles Davis deliver me back into his arms."
Music is often my escape. It can guide my thoughts, tune or amplify my emotions, take me to distant places, and at times I use it to drown out thoughts that I just don't want to deal with. In my latest installment I include a very poignant quote from
Courtney Peppernell
"Is that why you play your music so loud? A beat to drown out your thoughts, sound so high you cannot think, lyrics so close to home you don't even blink."
Love your writing! Rex
Now you have me googling Courtney Peppernell! Is it wrong that I don't know her? What a great quote. Thanks as always, for your encouraging remarks. This one was quite vulnerable to share so I appreciate the high five!
"vulnerable" I absolutely cringe every week when I hit the publish button on a new installment! your vulnerableness, is that a word? Lol comes through in your writing and that's what I think makes it so readable. You're just being you and that's cool.
About Courtney Peppernell, I just sort of stumbled on her one day not sure what I was search for but her website popped up. But I found many of her quotes helped me somehow. Like this one...
“One day, you will find a home, and it won’t be a place, it will be a person.
And you will be loved in spite of all the baggage and boxes you bring with you. ”
— I HOPE YOU STAY, Courtney Peppernell
This is on her website but I think this "...it won't be a place, it will be a person." is referring to oneself. When you find yourself you'll be home and there is no baggage as what you thought was baggage is really all the fantastical things that made you who you are today. You are you and unique and fabulous and Gods gift. That's the ultimate self-love!
Rex
Like all the others have said. Beautiful writing Kimberly, just beautiful.
Thank you Jan! We both got busy with life and found each other again yesterday. Fun to weave in and out of each other's prose. ;)
This was exquisite, Kimberly. Experiencing love in the throes of grief with the right person is wondrous. A salve for an unbearable wound.
This made me feel like I was invited to a secret dance, listening to a secret language that only two lovers can know. I love envisioning your life through your words. Such a gift you have bestowed upon us. Thank you.
You were invited indeed! And I couldn't be happier that you RSVP'd "yes." :)
This is exquisite Kimberley.
"I flirt with fearlessness and passion because I need his way near."
You are a poet.
Gah! Thank you! (Cheeks flushing.)
Wow! This writing is gorgeous. “As I pull away, Earth’s female population obliterated, I savor the ash still on my lips.” The rivers of corn, the shapes carved through the window, the eyes secretly escorting him to his seat. And then that beautiful letter.
Very glad to have found this stack.
And I, you! You had me at "and life outside and outside prescription" in your bio.
‘The paradox of heartache.’ Beautifully captured with tenderness and such deep love. Thank you. Now I’m gonna stir the pot a little bit—You describe the single blue light in Ale’s room and the single sodium vapor bulb in Charlie’s parking lot fight. You also casually mention you lost your virginity in Ale’s room. (!) And I wanted to hear more about that tender experience, especially in contrast to Charlie’s experience under a single bulb. Too personal? Maybe. But I’ll bet you can paint the image in a way that doesn’t feel like TMI.
Once again, you're seeing things that I didn't even see myself. The blue bulb in Ale's bedroom and the single bulb in my letter to Charlie—both written at very different times and even an afterthought for me to include that letter in this chapter. Creativity is funny that way, even when I was making narrative films, the impulse and process were often amputated from my logical, executive functioning. It was only later that viewers would point out connections and revelations. And your nudge to share the loss of virginity? Challenge accepted! Though if I'm honest, I recall little from the POV of my body. No surprise there. But if I allow my cells to recall from Ale's POV? Clear as day.
Yay! And ain't that the best part of creative process--we get a break from executive functioning!
"In a dangerous instant, the doors of my heart are thrown open and Ale walks in."
the synchrony of this is incredible. And your memories so raw, tender, the grieving heart fluttering from leaving Ale to Jenny leaving, to the Blue Jamaica mix-tape music ~ those music tapes we had to carry us through heartache...
"In a dangerous instant, the doors of my heart are thrown open and Ale walks in." Oh, I know that instant!