Writing Spaces

 

image:  Christie Cochrell, Bouquet and Book

Writing Spaces

 

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

Writing Spaces

 

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

Writing Spaces

 

Uncharted seas ahead . . .

with words to buoy us,

keep us on our course.

image:  Christie, collage page

The Days That Must Happen to You

 

“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.

 

 

 

Image:  Feel Good and Travel, How to Build a Sandcastle

Signature Required

 

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

A New Biography

 

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