enclave
The farther east we walk along the beach, the more Russian we hear. A few young women run up to us at one point and say something in Russian. On seeing our blank expression, they switch to English, and we understand that they'd like their photo taken in front of the ocean.
glossiness
The lawn has a velvet sheen in the sunshine.
mirrors
Facing the ocean are murals depicting its degradation.
plasticky
Along the boardwalk, there's a lot that's cheap and bright: plastic colors, sweet and fried foods, silly sound effects from quick games and rides.
scrawling
The rollercoaster looks like red scribbles on sky blue paper.
shade
It's a pleasant crescent of beach with a patchwork of umbrellas. There are circles of shade from the umbrellas, planks of shade from trees, and shade that shifts like cloth cast by the leaves.
wobbling
He pretends to know it all, but his act is unsteady. His lips turn down at the corners. His eyes widen and look away. To make up for the uncertainties coursing through him, he deepens his voice and tosses an insult.
Showing posts with label shadows. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shadows. Show all posts
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Friday, September 19, 2014
Week in Seven Words #226 & 227
226
chilling
There's never sunlight on that door, only a cold, still shade.
choreography
A ballerina soars across a corrugated roof.
dodging
I can see in his expression when he knows he's gone too far, but decides to keep going anyway. He forces himself to enjoy his own rudeness, his own petty cruelty, because the alternative is to be flooded with shame.
picturesque
Oval windows frame the reflection of trees and purple flowers.
reboot
Flopping facedown on the couch: Endurance and patience have been mostly depleted - time to recharge.
uneasiness
Is laughter always a fear response? I think laughter and fear are closely linked. Even when we don't think we're laughing in relief or in nervousness, the jokes we laugh at tap into our anxieties about ourselves. We laugh at things we might become or misfortunes we narrowly avoided. We laugh in acceptance of something odd that might have been dangerous, but is merely strange and possibly wonderful.
whispery
Flower-bearing trees rustling against fire escapes.
227
brushing
He runs his hand up and down his face, as if clearing away cobwebs from his eyes.
demitasse
The smell of sweat and coffee beans. Tinny music seeping out of headphones.
disregard
I am, once again, short on compassion for myself.
immobility
He defines a happy marriage as one that hasn't ended in divorce, not seeming to realize that people may spend a lifetime together in varying states of indifference and hostility.
metro
The air quivering, a dim light in the tunnel brightening, then the racket as the train enters the subway station.
purply
Last light of day slanting onto an empty purple vase.
undisturbed
He is calm and diplomatic. Even when listening to an unreasonable request, he has the look of someone contemplating rare wisdom.
chilling
There's never sunlight on that door, only a cold, still shade.
choreography
A ballerina soars across a corrugated roof.
dodging
I can see in his expression when he knows he's gone too far, but decides to keep going anyway. He forces himself to enjoy his own rudeness, his own petty cruelty, because the alternative is to be flooded with shame.
picturesque
Oval windows frame the reflection of trees and purple flowers.
reboot
Flopping facedown on the couch: Endurance and patience have been mostly depleted - time to recharge.
uneasiness
Is laughter always a fear response? I think laughter and fear are closely linked. Even when we don't think we're laughing in relief or in nervousness, the jokes we laugh at tap into our anxieties about ourselves. We laugh at things we might become or misfortunes we narrowly avoided. We laugh in acceptance of something odd that might have been dangerous, but is merely strange and possibly wonderful.
whispery
Flower-bearing trees rustling against fire escapes.
227
brushing
He runs his hand up and down his face, as if clearing away cobwebs from his eyes.
demitasse
The smell of sweat and coffee beans. Tinny music seeping out of headphones.
disregard
I am, once again, short on compassion for myself.
immobility
He defines a happy marriage as one that hasn't ended in divorce, not seeming to realize that people may spend a lifetime together in varying states of indifference and hostility.
metro
The air quivering, a dim light in the tunnel brightening, then the racket as the train enters the subway station.
purply
Last light of day slanting onto an empty purple vase.
undisturbed
He is calm and diplomatic. Even when listening to an unreasonable request, he has the look of someone contemplating rare wisdom.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Week in Seven Words #193
counterpoints
Most of their conversation consists of the same complaints getting aired, followed by the same bits of reassurance and advice. The advice-giver's voice remains steady, a series of low round notes. The complainer alternates between an agitated but soft melodic line and the occasional crescendo to keep us all on the edge of our seats.
flagging
The buses can't travel a block without wheezing. The newspapers twist in pain beside the curb.
hijinks
What they've tuned into reminds me of some of the T.V. shows I used to watch as a kid. The ones with multi-talented teens who seem to do everything at their high school except study and go to classes.
prisoner
Traces of a plaster face on the wall, the white mouth shaped into a tiny 'O' and the eyes blank.
soupy
Steam seems to come off of everyone at the restaurant. All the diners are dumplings.
tact
She listens with all outwards signs of compassion. Inwardly she's wondering how much time has passed and how best to interrupt without seeming to interrupt.
torrent
The wind rushes across the river in the dark, flooding the street and making the leaf-shadows dance.
Most of their conversation consists of the same complaints getting aired, followed by the same bits of reassurance and advice. The advice-giver's voice remains steady, a series of low round notes. The complainer alternates between an agitated but soft melodic line and the occasional crescendo to keep us all on the edge of our seats.
flagging
The buses can't travel a block without wheezing. The newspapers twist in pain beside the curb.
hijinks
What they've tuned into reminds me of some of the T.V. shows I used to watch as a kid. The ones with multi-talented teens who seem to do everything at their high school except study and go to classes.
prisoner
Traces of a plaster face on the wall, the white mouth shaped into a tiny 'O' and the eyes blank.
soupy
Steam seems to come off of everyone at the restaurant. All the diners are dumplings.
tact
She listens with all outwards signs of compassion. Inwardly she's wondering how much time has passed and how best to interrupt without seeming to interrupt.
torrent
The wind rushes across the river in the dark, flooding the street and making the leaf-shadows dance.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Week in Seven Words #176
cracks
The papers show me a barely literate boy who can't understand a mathematical word problem because the vocabulary is too advanced for him. For years he's lived like this (no one intervened?) and now they expect that sixteen hours of summertime intervention will prepare him for the sixth grade.
detached
A silent figure at a window, she watches the flags, the batons, and the floats. She can probably hear the cheers through the thick, dark glass.
funning
He offers passers-by a joke for a buck. His takers are a skeptical-looking teenager and a sobbing toddler.
incorporeal
He plays the violin huddled in on himself, as if he wants people to think that the music is flowing out of a bodiless entity.
particles
Closed to the public, the promenade becomes a place where shadows stroll and spots of sunlight skip on the pavement.
sunning
Ducks preening in a brown pond.
trifles
Booths selling blue ceramic teapots and ornate doll heads.
The papers show me a barely literate boy who can't understand a mathematical word problem because the vocabulary is too advanced for him. For years he's lived like this (no one intervened?) and now they expect that sixteen hours of summertime intervention will prepare him for the sixth grade.
detached
A silent figure at a window, she watches the flags, the batons, and the floats. She can probably hear the cheers through the thick, dark glass.
funning
He offers passers-by a joke for a buck. His takers are a skeptical-looking teenager and a sobbing toddler.
incorporeal
He plays the violin huddled in on himself, as if he wants people to think that the music is flowing out of a bodiless entity.
particles
Closed to the public, the promenade becomes a place where shadows stroll and spots of sunlight skip on the pavement.
sunning
Ducks preening in a brown pond.
trifles
Booths selling blue ceramic teapots and ornate doll heads.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Week in Seven Words #70
abounding
The wind skims water off the fountain. The droplets prickle on our skin. I'm happy to be with family on this fine sunny day.
cherished
He tries to detach my arm from my body; as I play along, falling over in the booth, he laughs. Later on as he sits on his father's shoulders, he leans over for a kiss on the cheek and tells me he loves me.
exploration
We make a water wheel turn, manipulate mirrors, watch a black hole emerge from a supernova. Dinosaurs lean towards us for a closer look as we peer at them through 3D specs. We clamber inside a giant heart, climb to the top of a lighthouse, and escape from a bottomless gift shop.
lamina
In the early morning the trees on my block toss their leaf-shadow onto the brick walls.
mélange
At the miniature golf course in Franklin Square the kids are innovating with the sport. They swing their putters at the ball (golf), kick the ball around (soccer), and dunk the ball into the hole (basketball). When basketsoccergolf fails to divert, there's enough water around to plonk the balls into (scuba diving). The golf course also gives them a mini-tour of Philadelphia; major landmarks appear in small scale. At one hole you have to hit the ball through the crack in the Liberty Bell. At another you have to whack it up a steep hill and into one of three possible tunnels in the Art Museum. The kids like dropping the balls into tunnels and seeing where they'll next emerge.
sunscreen
The soothing redolence of sunscreen - I think of sunshine, water, long walks, powder blue skies.
unbuttoned
He knows I don't like to talk about my problems. That's why, after my initial denials, he keeps asking questions - not intrusively, but just enough to let me understand that he cares and wants to know enough to offer advice. I start to sketch things out for him - a little bit in the cab ride, a lot more on the walk home along the streets baking and the bridge flashing in the sun. Nothing's solved yet, but I do feel a little better by the end of our conversation.
The wind skims water off the fountain. The droplets prickle on our skin. I'm happy to be with family on this fine sunny day.
cherished
He tries to detach my arm from my body; as I play along, falling over in the booth, he laughs. Later on as he sits on his father's shoulders, he leans over for a kiss on the cheek and tells me he loves me.
exploration
We make a water wheel turn, manipulate mirrors, watch a black hole emerge from a supernova. Dinosaurs lean towards us for a closer look as we peer at them through 3D specs. We clamber inside a giant heart, climb to the top of a lighthouse, and escape from a bottomless gift shop.
lamina
In the early morning the trees on my block toss their leaf-shadow onto the brick walls.
mélange
At the miniature golf course in Franklin Square the kids are innovating with the sport. They swing their putters at the ball (golf), kick the ball around (soccer), and dunk the ball into the hole (basketball). When basketsoccergolf fails to divert, there's enough water around to plonk the balls into (scuba diving). The golf course also gives them a mini-tour of Philadelphia; major landmarks appear in small scale. At one hole you have to hit the ball through the crack in the Liberty Bell. At another you have to whack it up a steep hill and into one of three possible tunnels in the Art Museum. The kids like dropping the balls into tunnels and seeing where they'll next emerge.
sunscreen
The soothing redolence of sunscreen - I think of sunshine, water, long walks, powder blue skies.
unbuttoned
He knows I don't like to talk about my problems. That's why, after my initial denials, he keeps asking questions - not intrusively, but just enough to let me understand that he cares and wants to know enough to offer advice. I start to sketch things out for him - a little bit in the cab ride, a lot more on the walk home along the streets baking and the bridge flashing in the sun. Nothing's solved yet, but I do feel a little better by the end of our conversation.
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