Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The Red Chair


Remembered Prompt: Imagine you are meeting someone for the first time. You want to tell them about yourself.
Instead of reciting a laundry list of what you do or where you're from, please give us a scene from your life that best illustrates your true self.


A red chair that sits in the middle of a landscape deep in hibernation. Harsh, drab and brittle, with blades as jagged as knives the grass surrounding me threatens the bottom of tender feet. The trees offer no shelter from their desolate branches. Its prismatic face covered, the sky is a glacial blanket of gray. The wind cuts with no promise of relief. The very air around me feels as though its been inhaled sharply with no sound within its vast vaccuum.  


I am affected by none of this because it is not what I choose to see. 


From the chair I see a supple field rich in tones of green dotted with the regal presence of brilliant sunflowers and graceful daisies. The  trees are dripping with rich foliage. Their branches eagerly offer a welcome home to the birds whose singing fills the indigo sky with my favorite song. The wind caresses me gently and whispers across my skin a promise filled with laughter and warmth.


The chair is my heart. It saturates the bleak horizon with its brilliant color. It pierces the ground with purpose even though it’s very existence defies the harsh nature around it. Its presence overflows with bubbling laughter over the irony of where it has been placed. The strong frame that holds it steadfast in the strongest winds frame the soft, easily damaged cushions. These cushions have supported heavy weight at times and although some of the natural spring has wilted; they have endured.


In the middle of the bleak landscape the chair has stood open for others to sit for a moment. It has offered its comfort in the hopes that others would see the fertile field for a moment and hear a song brought to them on the wings of the wind. It has asked for others to listen for the laughter that was buried under the cover of repose. Its cushions have absorbed spilled tears and mummers of trusted confidence. The red fabric has been torn by carelessness and ripped with impetuous purpose. It will continue to stand open because that’s the very nature of its intent.


A red chair that sits in the middle of a landscape deep in hibernation; this is who I am.

37 comments:

Jessica said...

Oh my gosh, this is pure poetry. So well done I can't even begin to explain. Your descriptions have me standing right there in that field staring at the famous red chair and listening to the stories pour out of it. Amazing work.

Selena said...

WOW. This is the first of the link ups I have read and I feel like the girl who shows up at the ball completely underdressed. That was amazing!

JDaniel4's Mom said...

What a special thing it is to find a chair that will share its life with you.

Elena @NaynaDub said...

Your writing blows me away all the time. Simply beautiful.

Jackie said...

Wow. Simply wow....

You're an amazing writer and I think about what I have written and feel like I should pull it down! There is no comparison!

Great job!

Shell said...

So, so beautiful!

Dafeenah said...

Simply beautiful.

The mad woman behind the blog said...

For the record, this is all you, babe. I absolutely LOVE your descriptions, your SHOWING.
And I too feel like Selena, completely under-dressed.

Annie said...

oh wow!! AWESOME!!
Fav line: Its presence overflows with bubbling laughter over the irony of where it has been placed.

So true. You are a very strong and beautiful woman because you bloomed where you were planted, or in spite of it? Amazing how well you showed who you are without specific details. WOW.

Pamela Gold said...

This is brilliant. Rough around the edges but perfectly warming in the center. I'm so glad I've gotten to know you over the past month through memoirs. LOVE!

tracy said...

So.incredibly. beautiful.

Kelly said...

I love this! Your imagery is wonderful.

Elaine A. said...

Gorgeous writing and such a beautiful way to get to know you. I love that photo so much!!

danceswithchaos said...

I bow before your amazing writing.

Damn, woman. You kick ass.

May I one day possess 1/10 of your skills.

Ash said...

"These cushions have supported heavy weight at times and although some of the natural spring has wilted; they have endured."

LOVE this. Love it all.

Denelle @CaitsConcepts said...

Such beautiful, rich detail.. your writing never ceases to amaze me!

Miri said...

Amazing.

This is a lesson in prose... and in you, of course.

Alex said...

beautifully written

HonestConvoGal said...

I don't know if you're familiar with "prose poetry" but that is very close to what you write. As a form, it is poetry written in prose that departs from some of the usual practices associated with prose discourse, like plot, but it uses prose sentence structure, etc., for heightened emotional effect. It is poetry because of the use of metaphor and imagery, because it asks you to feel and sense more than it asks you to understand. I think that is what you do here. I love it. I also love what you did above : ). You might like French poet Bertrand, if you don't already, BTW. I love what you do with words, my dear. I do, I do.

Not Just Another Jennifer said...

Love this!

Sandi Amorim said...

You are a magician with words!

C.Mom said...

Stunning...this is beauty at it's finest.

Jenna said...

amazing. what a beautiful look at your heart and your red chair!

This Daddy said...

I know i usually mess with you about the chair but this is great and I love how you tell about how the chair is YOU.

This Daddy said...

I know i usually mess with you about the chair but this is great and I love how you tell about how the chair is YOU.

DaisyGal said...

Oh how I loved that...pure words, just a picture of everything you were saying. It was so simple and so heartfelt.

thanks for sharing.

LuvMyCrzyLife said...

Wow! I am blown away by the beauty in this post. Thank you for letting all of us, your readers, find comfort in that red chair as well.

Leighann said...

Beautiful.
Your words placed me right on your chair.

Tonya said...

Like the chair, you have weathered, but are still standing. I love the imagery.

Bravo.

Natalie said...

Wow...only wow! Your writing is incredible and I hope that one day I will be able to piece words together like you can.

Stephanie said...

From this I know exactly who you are, and you didn't actually tell me anything. I am in awe of you.

So, when we gonna tip the porta potty?

--The Drama Mama

MamaRobinJ said...

Beautiful post. I was waiting to see what it represented, and I didn't see that coming at all. And the piece was better for it.

logyexpress.com said...

Wow you really did this prompt right. Such a creative post, I'm in awe.

Keda said...

Such a poetic piece. wonderful reading. so glad you shared.

Mommylebron said...

I love this, it shows that choose to make the best of any situation, to see the best in others. I love the symbolism of the chair, also! Great job!

Brenda said...

The chair is open, very open. But where does the chair relax?
@mamabegood

Galit Breen said...

Goodness this post is pure poetry. The images, the word choice, the revealing element of every. Single. Word. I'd say you nailed this one. Yep. Considered it nailed.

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