“From the tin, he removed a bag of loose herbs and a small metal tea ball. He filled the tea ball and lowered it by its chain into the cup of hot water. The two women watched transfixed by his graceful movements.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg.91
“Only a few of the candles remained unlit. The flames from the others danced and weaved, making the red containers glow like rubies. These had been lit for Ian.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg.85
“In the half-light of the crypt, her breath billowed out in front of her as she shivered in the cold. She stood up stiffly, removing the plain gold wedding band. It slipped easily off her frozen finger. She placed on the bench where it clattered dully on the chilly marble.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg.79
“Sister Collette had pointed out a spider web the size of a dinner plate suspended between the prickly stalks of the sunflowers planted along the edge of the garden. The web glistened with early morning dew transforming it into a crystal masterpiece of geometry.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg.70
“Lizzie could feel Madison watching her even as her employee dug into her sandwich. Sighing, Lizzie raised her spoon to her lips and took a mouthful of golden broth. It tasted of nothing, but the warmth was comforting. She ate another small spoonful, noticing Madison was now focused on her own food.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg.52
“Opening the door on the lower shelf, she pulled out a nondescript book. She lifted the cover to reveal a small square compartment hollowed out in the false pages and pulled out a tiny gold key.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg.39
“… she glanced around the room. There was no feeling of Ian in the bedroom, no poignant echos of whispered affection, no memories of nights spent in intimate comfort.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg. 30
FATAL
“When she looked up at the sound of yet another gurney, she knew before they passed by her view that this person had breathed her last breath long before reaching the hospital. The paramedics weren’t talking as they pushed the stretcher down the hall, their energy subdued, almost defeated. Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut.”
The Enchanted One by Lora Deeprose pg.23
Source: purpleshadow13.hubpages.com
Everyone has ideal work and home environments, places where they can be their most productive and authentic. I wonder where these preferences come from. Is it an attempt to recreate a childhood home where one felt safe and loved, is it just a matter of convenience and lifestyle or is it a link to the way our ancestors lived that is stored in our DNA that makes one person hanker for city life and another for the quiet of the country?
As an introvert, I’ve spent most of my life trying to fit into an extrovert world. I tried to convince myself living in an apartment in a big city was what I wanted and working in a government office was the thing to do. Then I got older and wiser and just plain tired of trying to be something and someone I wasn’t.
If I had just listened to my child self and followed what made her happy, I would have saved myself a great deal of time, grief and moving expenses. Children always know their preferences especially when they are young enough not to care about what society says.
I’ve always preferred a forest, and not a forest view but being amongst the trees, down in the understory. As a preschooler, I would head outside and straight for the hedgerow that divided our property from the neighbour’s. I would spend hours tucked underneath the branches where it was cool and dark making up stories about magical animals and places. Once I started attending school, every recess I would scoot down to a small dell where a poplar forest stood. I loved that tiny green palace with its shimmering leaves that shivered with the slightest breeze breaking the sunlight into moving sculptures of dark and light.
It wasn’t until my forties when I would finally own a property that was nestled in the trees and for five years I lived in my dream environment. Even on the brightest, hottest days of summer I could find a cool, dark spot of shade where my light-sensitive eyes could enjoy looking at the sunny day from a comfortable perspective.
When it comes to work environment, a softly lit, quiet room with the sound of the rain outside is when I feel the most energized and productive. A sunny day does the opposite for me; I just want to find shade and read all afternoon or have a long afternoon nap. Give me an overcast stormy day, soft glowing yellow light and even better a fire roaring on the hearth and I’m a very happy camper.
I am also a morning person, a very early morning person. Before sunrise, I take my coffee outside no matter what time of year. I go outside to experience the brief moment when the night creatures have all gone to bed and the day beings haven’t gotten up yet. The silence that exists is like the earth holding its breath and it feels as if all things are possible in that fleeting period of absolute silence.
So, I prefer the sun dappled shade of a forest and my home needs to reflect a sense of calm, warmth and dreaminess. I contemplated why I hold such preferences and I think I unconsciously try to recreate in the external world what my internal one looks and feels like.
My imagination and inspiration live in a place of shadows where characters and stories emerge from the half-light of a flickering candle flame, where the brooding clouds create a blank slate for my characters to act out their stories. And the in between places of my mind are where I catch glimpses of another world that ask to be placed on the page.
So what is your ideal place to live; the stark beauty of a desert, the vastness of an ocean view, a cottage in the forest, the open vistas of a prairie, or the exotic flora of a jungle? And what environment allows you to feel most comfortable, the hum and buzz of a city, the quiet of the country or something in between?
It’s been a month of soaring temperatures and oppressive heat. Even with the blinds closed and several fans running, my apartment is sweltering. The only solution is to head outside in search of shade and the faint hope of catching a breeze.
My apartment opens onto a covered patio so finding shade wasn’t a problem but the available seating left a great deal to be desired. But that’s where my sister, the Garage Sale Guru, the Diva of Dumpster Diving came to my rescue.
She’d recently plucked a rather sad-looking bamboo and wicker sofa from someone’s front lawn. Don’t worry, she didn’t steal it, the owners had stuck a free sign on it before my sister scooped it up and shoved it in the back of her truck.
Its coat of glossy black paint was peeling off, there were no cushions and a few of the wicker wraps on the back and arms had started to unravel. I gave it a good cleaning and fixed the broken pieces. As for cushions, we snagged them for under forty dollars, sixty percent off, as the store was already putting out its back to school merchandise (this was in July).
At first I labeled this wonderful piece of furniture the Couch of Procrastination because as soon as I’d settle into it, time would disappear and I would find myself daydreaming while watching the bees dance with the flowers in the back yard.
But the word procrastination conjured up feeling of guilt; that in sitting in this wonderful space I was somehow being lazy. I was wasting time when there were more important things that needed my attention; laundry, housecleaning, this month’s blog, hitting my daily word count on my current novel.
Then I remembered a quote from Socrates, “Beware the barrenness of a busy life.” Somehow I’d forgotten the value of being instead of constantly doing. Its only when you are really clear on what is important in your life, what fulfills you, can you lead a meaningful life. And the only way to figure that out is to be. Be with yourself, and your thoughts and your fears. When you dig deeper that is when the real richness of your life can come forward.
Now more than ever, we need to disconnect with the digital world and step out of the rush of modern society. When you aren’t distracting yourself with tweets, Facebook updates and pinning images on Pinterest or rushing about to-and-from work or dashing out to do some retail therapy, something wondrous creeps in. Silence.
And once the silence has established itself it allows you to finally hear that still quiet voice of your authentic self.
There is a reason why even cloistered monks and nuns set time aside for silent prayer and meditation. Only in quiet contemplation can one begin to know God, or Buddha or the intelligent consciousness of the Universe. Without that sacred space of silence, we who live in the secular world can lose our centre and get way off track in our quick-fix, instant gratification society. Our purpose for being gets lost under the barrage of advertising, consumerism and distraction.
If you build it he will come.
Or in my case if you arrange some second-hand furniture unexpected magic may happen. And to ensure that this little corner of the patio nurtures the alchemy of the soul I’ve imposed a few rules; no iPods, portable DVD players or cellphones allowed and the laptop comes out only when I need it for writing.
What is allowed are books, journals, sketch books, cold drinks, fresh flowers, something delicious to eat, and a soft pillow in case the urge to have a nap overtakes me.
It really is an adult play space were daydreaming, reading, lounging, napping and reconnecting with family and friends are fostered.
So I encourage you, while we still have a few weeks of lazy summer days left, to find an outdoor spot and install your own Chesterfield of Dreams. It doesn’t even have to be a sofa, perhaps a hammock is more your style or a chaise lounge. And if you don’t have the furniture already and dumpster diving isn’t your thing even a blanket and some pillows arranged under the spreading arms of a tree would be just fine. Whatever appeals to you. If you set up your spot for reflection without delay, I promise you, you too will begin to experience the magic of being.
Lora Deeprose 