Character Sketch: A Transparent Perspective

*I did not edit or revise this because it would defeat the purpose of the exercise. Hope you enjoy it anyway. Hopefully, you understand it by the end. 

I get one view. Just one. I suppose if I wanted to look at it another way, I have two. Straight ahead and straight back. So, two views, but one position. There are perks to being what I am. The human touch, for example. I crave it. It is few and far between and usually met with disapproving shouts, but it's my connection to my world. Both of them. The one straight ahead and one straight back.

The imprints don't ever last long. It's usually chaotic and the world behind me seems routine. So does the world in front, but not in the same way. Confinement versus the wide-open. At least I think it's wide open out there. My view is obstructed. Limited. Straight and narrow. Much like some people's views based on the many conversations I've overheard. This, you may think, is another perk. I disagree. Imagine ridiculous statements one after the other as if they are part of the routine -the same ones that wipe away my connection - and you can't rebuke or even reply. Just reminded that your position...my position or purpose isn't to partake in such events. 

The same goes for joyous occasions. If I'm being honest, there's plenty of those too. Difficult sometimes to realize they outnumber and outweigh the bad ones, but it's easy to clip our emotions manifested from the bad ones on a wash line with a wavering wind. Joy, from my perch in the room, seems to change the mood and activities of those around me, but at the same time seems more difficult to sustain and even longer to achieve than it does its nemesis. 

Rainy days make me feel homesick. It makes me feel something I cannot really explain. It's a connection, but unlike the ones that touch me. When I'm touched, it's the smears that I hope are not seen and kept with me for a little while longer. The feeling I get when it rains makes me miss something that I don't remember being part of. I can't distinguish between what I was before and what I am now. I just know what I am now. Even if I struggle with my purpose sometimes, it doesn't take long before I'm reminded. Because it's the sunny days that bring joy. Not mine per se. Not directly, anyway. I provide a view that seems to change the mood of those around me. With that view, options.

I remember one sunny day in particular. A neighbor had cut down a tree, leaving me with a whole new view of the world in front of me. With approaching laughter, I was touched. It lingered just for a moment only because the other one - the one that does the yelling sometimes - wasn't nearby at the moment. A gasp of joy followed as the hands left a long grayish streak. Then just as quickly as they came, the hands - my connection - left. But for good reason. Through my pane, the child saw one of the larger people approach in his wheeled contraption. Exiting, I noticed he was carrying a colorful bouquet which he handed to her, but not before she leaped into his arms. And there it was. Joy.

The joy lasted longer than it ever had before that moment. From understanding as much as I can, I sensed priorities were shifted. Tones altered. Acceptance more available. In one conversation before my blinds were closed and all went to bed, I learned why. When the person asked the other what had changed, the other simply replied, "I chose joy."

-Written by Aleva Ing Rumwindow

What does your window see?

Originally published on 10/4/16

Character Sketch: A Back Road View

Character Sketches are something I try to do to keep myself writing - an attempt to maintain discipline. This isn't a character sketch per se, but rather more of a painted scene. I gave myself about 20 minutes not worrying about tense or grammar - writing exercises are not about that.

Out the window, everything whooshing by making it difficult to slow my mind. Which was the point of this so-called excursion. Every lane, with their smeared painted lines, were clear, - which I found oddly peculiar as if I was missing something - but I chose a random exit, hoping it would lead to some back roads - feeling getting lost in an unfamiliar place is what I needed. That's where I wanted to be. If not actually off the beaten path, then at least have the illusion I was. It wouldn't be wise with the current conditions of which I'm fleeing to be too close to the outskirts of society. That would exemplify a level of boldness that I care to have, a passion for life that I didn't seem to have anymore. 

Did I ever? 

Hard to imagine or remember a time when the marrow of life was served three times a day. Of course, as I think about it with the fields of grains serenading me with their whispery and windblown notes, throwing caution into the thick, humid, late-afternoon air does appeal to me. Even if in the slightest and implausible way.

The unpainted barn was close enough to the road and far enough away from the house. I decided to pull over. Long blades of grass stretched themselves around the wooden posts up to the middle barbed wire. Just out of reach of the horses' mouths. Three more horses were off in the distance - silhouettes as the sun was being anchored behind the row of trees rooted adjacent to the house.

A light came on in what appeared to be the kitchen and a woman whose age could not be seen from my distance, stood in front of the window. Her gaze was interrupted by two children. They seemed happy. Content. All of them. From the looks of their property - the unpainted barn, one very old car, and a big section of the roof that had no shingles - they didn't seem to have much of anything. Their happiness stung me.

I started my car in search of another back road.