image: Christie Cochrell, Bouquet and Book
poetry&prose
creative ramblings & reverie
alo, 1. sharing 2. in the present
oha, joyous affection, joy
ha, life energy, life, breath
Using Hawaiian language grammatical rules, we will translate this literally as "The joyful sharing of life energy in the present" or simply "Joyfully sharing life."
Image: Canipe, Steve. hawaii-oct2003(320).jpg
My ancient past . . . in three locations. Petroglyphs (essentially, writing on varied stones) in Rome, the Colosseum; in Frijoles Canyon, my New Mexico; and in Hawaii, on black lava flows, sometimes as prayers for the crossing.
images: Rome, Gustave Baumann lithograph of Frijoles Canyon, Hawaiian Petroglyphs © Tor Johnson
“When he died, their father had two requests. First, that his ashes be taken to the palacio on the river the third week in September, on what would have been his 90th birthday. And second, that the whole family be there to take part in the scattering. Or, as he put it in the codicil, quoting his favorite poet, Walt Whitman, and underlining the words twice, ‘These are the days that must happen to you.’
That second was the sticking point, of course—though he'd cunningly left generous funds with Daniel Kim, his dexterous executor and sandcastling buddy, to cover travel from their various boltholes across the world, and made it clear that only if they carried out that dire last commandment would there be another cent. But even so, could they forget their rancor, their cherished pet peeves, and tolerate each other's company for three interminable days?”
Thus begins another story inspired by a prompt from The First Line. (Yes, there are many yet to come!) This was published yesterday by Eucalyptus Lit, who had this to say:
“Today is the winter solstice: a natural pivot in the seasonal cycle, aligning with our exploration of change in this issue. Allow yourselves to be changed, inspired by the work of the community around us. Great art is meant to be enjoyed—to be shared—so please feel free to spread the word about our issue to your friends, family, and fellow literature enthusiasts.”
I told them when it was accepted, "It is especially nice to have my story published by you, since eucalyptus has graced much of my life—from the Mills College campus to the foothills around Palo Alto where I spent some thirty years, to the park here in Santa Cruz whose eucalyptus shelters long-traveling Monarch butterflies.”
And it was fun to spend some time in the Carmel Valley with this peevish family over three days, along with Walt Whitman, and see where all of us came out.
Here’s another of my wilder whimsies, a.k.a. "What Should We Do with the Body?", in response to a prompt by The First Line—who (in more sober frame of mind) did not accept it for publication. It’s been picked up instead by Cerasus Magazine, appropriately situated, as is the story, in England.
For those who enjoy whimsy involving Punk rockers, Paladian bridges, Polish chickens, an early Renaissance stiletto, and a stray cassowary (or, indeed, as an editor I once worked with once enthused, for “anyone with an interest in anything”), a paperback copy of Issue #11 can be purchased from Amazon, or the pdf can be downloaded here.
I’ve imagined that an ideal film version of this story would star the following:
John Gielgud as old retainer
Ken Stott (Rebus) as Digby
young Stephen Fry or Simon Callow as Aiken
Ian McShane (Lovejoy) or David Jason (Frost) as Man with Clipboard 2
Richard Briers or John Cleese as Lord Ashenden
Bill Nighy as Parson Q
Peter Vaughan as the Major General
But that's just further whimsy, of course . . .
Image: Palladian Bridge, Prior Park, England
This will accompany stories now, until further notice—
"Christie Cochrell is grateful for the several awards and Pushcart nominations given to her diverse array of published stories and creative nonfiction pieces, and for the favorite places far and near that have inspired her writing. Chosen as New Mexico Young Poet of the Year while growing up in Santa Fe, she has more recently published a volume of collected poems, Contagious Magic. She lives on the northern California coast in Santa Cruz, the unceded ancestral homeland of the Awaswas-speaking Uypi Tribe, and honors those who came before."
Image: Santa Cruz Beach, with Author
Ocean and Black Dog, and Two Waters, Christie Cochrell
James Merrill wrote in his memoir, A Different Person (1993), about visiting a doctor about his depression, saying that he didn't know how to live or how to love, he just knew how to write a poem. The doctor, he said, "listened closely, then acted with undreamed-of kindness and dispatch. 'Come with me,' he said, in a flash ushering me out of his downtown office and onto the back seat of a smart little pale-green motorscooter. I put my arms, as instructed, about his stout, gray-suited person, and off we went in sunlight, through traffic, under trees, past architecture, over the muddy river to lunch." (The Writer’s Almanac, 3/3/3)Our hope is that this collection of writing will give readers the same je ne sais quois that brief but immense lunchtime voyage gave us—encouragement for going on; inspiration to do something simply good for ourselves each ordinary day; a smile; a moment of respite or recognition; time out from global numbing; a pause for weirdness, wonder, and delight. We want to share what gives us pleasure or some keener satisfaction putting down as well as picking up.