Posts Tagged ‘Book’

First off I want to apologize to all my blog followers/readers. I’ve been slightly distracted lately and have not been putting the effort into my blog that I would like. I sat down today to write a blog entry about love and if it can be possible to have it with a person you know but have never met. As I opened up my pages I stumbled upon this excerpt from my novel that had seemingly been lost amongst the many endless pages of the story. As I re-read it I was actually quite shocked. I had completely forgotten about this moment in the story. It is definitely one of the most poignant parts of Gray and Hayleigh’s journey. After reading it I was compelled to share it with all of you. For some reason I get so emotional when I read these words. I know I’m the one who is writing the story, but I don’t feel like I decide where these characters go. They are real to me and when tragedy strikes in the story it’s almost like it is happening to me. I can’t change it because I know this is the way the story needs to be told. I hope you enjoy!

Peace and Love 

Lindsay

“I love you, I love who you are, you’re cynical and honest, logical  and rational. You never get caught up in fantasy, you keep your mind here and focussed, you don’t let yourself look back. Your grace and passion for art makes me yearn to be immersed in your creativity.  You see things in my art that I never thought possible. You’re supportive and encouraging. You do so much for me Hayleigh and sometimes I feel like I don’t do enough for you.”

How could she be pouring her heart out to me in this moment, this moment in which I wanted to end it all? It had gone too far, I had let her get too far in, she was caught in my net and now I wanted her cut her free.

“Do you remember the day you picked up that penny and gave it to the homeless man weeping on the bench.”

I didn’t even know she saw me that day, Gray saw me before I ever saw her.

“Yes I do.”

“Why did you do it? I saw twenty other people walk by and not one person even looked his way. They acted as if the bench was empty but yet still avoiding it like a disease. Then you appear and acknowledge him like the true human he is. Why would you do that Hayleigh?”

I sat there astonished by her recollection. How long had she watched me? Was she always intrigued by me? Why did I do it?

“I did it because I saw someone who was sad and it made me sad and I didn’t want to feel that way?” Even though I found myself feeling sad continually I began to feel numb to it until I saw others suffering and it reminded me of my own loss, my own sorrow.

“Yeah, well what if you are sad Haleigh? What if what you saw in that man I see in you?Maybe I just want to take away a bit of your sadness, maybe it makes me hurt me to see the pain in your eyes, the pain your try to lock inside your heart but it bleeds through.”

I was upset she felt the burden of my anguish, I wanted her to know she could never relieve me of it.

“Gray, you can’t take my hurt away, it’s etched into my soul and nothing can heal it. It’s who I am, I’m damaged and defective and I can’t be with you or anyone because it will only end in both of us being desecrated.”

She stood there, her tears silently curved around her chin and dropped to the floor. Her breath was short and shallow, she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. My heart ached and I could feel hers throbbing too. This exact moment was why I couldn’t do this. No matter what happened both of our hearts would end in ache. I walked over to her and gripped my hands over her biceps, her skin was hot, I wanted to hug her, I felt so cold. She lowered her head. I think It hurt her too much to look me in the eye, or maybe she couldn’t look me in the eye maybe she had begun to hate me, which I hoped she would.

“Gray, I can’t give you the things you need and you can’t stop my pain.”

Gray jerked herself from my grasp, shook her head and raised her chin. I was surprised by her face it wasn’t filled with hate, it wasn’t even filled with anger or sadness. Love, her grey marble eyes were dripping with love. Gray just stood there and stared. She didn’t smile, her lips sat slightly parted as salty rivers flowed over them. I couldn’t look away she wouldn’t let me. After what felt like hours she spoke in a whisper, her voice let on what her eyes never did, pain.

“Hayles, if you think for one second that I need anything that you can’t give me than you really don’t know me at all. What I need is you, what I want is you, who I love…–” She reached out and grabbed my hand and place is against her lips.

“is you.”

Gray dropped my hand,  making it slap into my hip creating a light thud. I hurt her, I wounded her, like I knew I would. Gray turned and walked out the door but not without one last glance with those stark eyes, her cheeks rose pulling up a sliver of a smile, and then she was gone.

I felt my heart wound rip open again, the tsunami of emotion hit me, I fell to the floor, my mom was dead, my dad was lost in his own mind and the only person I wanted to hold me right now was Gray and I had just forced her out of my life.

 

I spent the next hour waiting for Gray with anticipation, pacing back and forth wondering what she would think of this. How would she feel about me and what I planned to do? I worried about my silk robe, would she like it, would she care? Why did I care? I had spent hours deciding where to place everything. I built a candle lit walkway to the bed which was surrounded in more candles. I opened the curtains letting the moonlight fill the room. The flames flickered left and right as air moved throughout the room creating shadows in the night.

I heard the familiar screech of the metal door along the brick and jumped at the sound, she was here. My heart began to beat against my chest, I placed my hand over it to try to slow the thumps. It didn’t work.

The door was open now, there stood the silhouette of Gray,  I could barely make out the expression on her face but it looked to be worry.

“Hayleigh?” she whispered.

I walked over to her and as my figure became visible in the candle light she smiled with relief.

“You scared me, I didn’t know you were coming over tonight. What is all this? What are you wearing? What’s–”

I stepped closer to her and reached out for the purse she had slung over her shoulder. I lifted it up over her and dropped it to the floor. Grabbing her hand I led her through the walkway to the bed.

“Hayles, I don’t know what you have planned here but I told you I don’t need this. I can live without this, don’t do this for me.”

I kept silent. Slowly I took off her jacket, revealing the white tank top she had underneath, her porcelain skin became covered with goose bumps.

“ Stop,” she insisted but she never attempted to push me away. She wanted this, but she did not want this for me.

I pulled down her jeans, so skinny she was that they fell over her hips with little struggle. As I reached for the bottom of her tank top she grabbed both my hands. Staring at me directly, she was pleading with her eyes for me not to continue. I couldn’t stop now I had to do this. This night was not for her it was for us, to connect us in a way that I had spent so many years avoiding. I wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned into her lips, they were as soft as rose petals. Slowly I melted my lips to hers, she let out a gentle sigh. I lifted the bottom of her shirt up, up, up separating our lips only to remove the garment from her body. She shivered in the cold of the night yet her skin was warming with every moment we touched. I slipped my hands under her panties, over her hips, down her thighs they fell to the floor.

The first step was done, now it was my turn. I pulled my lips away from her and took a step back. Her beauty was heightened in the moonlight, she still held the look of nervousness which was an odd showing for her. I knew she was not anxious for herself but rather for me. Gray knew me, she knew this was difficult for only me, and she hated for me to be uncomfortable. But what I hated more than this vulnerability was seeing worry in her eyes, a rarity I wish I never had to see.

I wanted to ease her mind, so I began to untie the belt on my silk robe. I felt the air hit my navel, my breasts, suddenly I too was covered in goose bumps. In all my preparation for tonight I forgot to turn up the heat.

Gray’s face was lit with a sudden smile, but she was not looking at my body, only my face. I let the robe slip over my shoulders and fall to the floor. Their we stood, bare, staring at only each others eyes. I too began to smile, this woman was everything to me and I only wanted to be everything to her, and tonight I hoped I would be.

I took a step toward her and laced my fingers into hers and sat onto the bed. Still staring at her I guided her body down. I kissed her lips gently, pulling away for only a moment and placing my hand over her eyes, making them close.

I began to kiss down her jaw line, down her neck, across her collarbone. Over her shoulder down her left arm, taking my time as I came to the bend in her elbow, she let out a soft giggle. I took my time with each of her lengthy fingers. Fingers that had been stained by the colors of the rainbow. Fingers that had created such art that made me ache inside. Her palm was smooth and smelled the familiar smell of paint, the smell I always associated with her. I placed her hand at her side and continued on over her hip, down the inside of her thigh. Gray sighed and placed her hand on mine, I continued going down her leg, around her knee. When I reached her foot, I kissed each toe, her sole was dry and calloused from years of wearing bare feet. Her toes curl under as I kissed the middle of her foot. I looked up at Gray and a saw a smile set upon her face.

I moved over to her right leg, kissing along the inside of her knee, up to the slant between her thigh and pelvis. She shuttered in anticipation, but I couldn’t do it, this night was not about sex. I kissed her belly button, blowing gently against it, she laughed and ran her fingers through my hair. I Kissed up her torso until I reached her breasts, they were supple and felt of velvet. I kissed each one, careful not to leave an area untouched by my lips.

Gray took in a deep slow breath and released a quiet whisper “ You forgot this one,” she said as she raised her right arm and wiggled her fingers. She smiled, I laughed.

“Of course, how could I forget, that’s my favourite one.”

I straddled her hips and pulled her arm to my mouth covering it completely, taking extra care with each finger.

Last was her face, her beautiful, glorious face. The face that had woke me from the nightmare of a life I was living before I met her.

“Open your eyes,” I said. There she lay with those grey storm clouds in her eyes, she did not look through me but rather into me, into the depths of my being that I desperately tried to keep hidden but were not safe from her stark gaze.

I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, along her cheek bones. Then down the bridge of her nose, across her chin, finally reaching the holy grail of her face, her mouth,  which was slightly parted waiting, longing for my lips to press against them. I let my lips hover above hers for a moment, barely grazing them. I could feel her hot breath escape her lips and wisp softly over mine.

Looking straight into the grey abyss of her eyes I spoke softly, “I love you Gray,” and then I let my lips fall against hers. Our bodies were moulded against each other, I could feel our hearts beating together. I don’t know how long we laid there melting into each other, but I could have stayed there forever. Eventually I rolled off of her onto my side, our hands were still intertwined. Gray laid there with her eyes closed, smiling, I lay there staring at her, wishing we could stay like this forever, immersed in our love.

I’ve been in denial. As many of you may know I have been writing what I’ve been calling a “story” that I thought may develop into a short story or a novella. I have realized recently that I have been lying to myself about what this story is meant to be. The truth is I have been scared to call it a novel because I didn’t believe I had the right to say I was writing a novel. I have no education in the area of writing besides a University 100 level English so how could I be writing novel?

Today that changed, I had an epiphany, being an artist of any kind does not mean you have to be educated in the area, you have to live it, breath it, believe it. I thought about it and I do live it, I do breath it and thanks to the response I have been getting on the internet and from people closest to me I now believe it! I received some advice from a person on twitter recently, she suggested I start promoting my book now even though it isn’t finished, and my blog is the perfect place to do that, so here goes:

Hi my name is Lindsay, I’m a writer who is writing a novel, it’s called Gray Hayles and it’s an unclassical story of life, love and loss. I’m looking into self publishing and hoping to have it out within the next two years. I won’t rush it though because I know you can’t rush art! If you’re interested, I have 4 excerpts posted under Gray Hayles.

Ahhhh I feel much better now that it’s out in the open. 😉

Peace and Love and Writing

Lindsay 🙂

Dear uWise One, You are anything but unwise. I love what you have to say about yourself and what you write. I take it you’re from Canada? Would like to know more about what has most influenced you as a person, poet and philosophical searcher. I wish there were more unWise ones in the world. It humbles me and gives me hope for the future.
– Gordon Stewart –

 First of all thank you for your questions and kind words. I assure you they humble me. 🙂

At first I was skeptical of answering this question because I really have no education in the area of philosophy or writing. All I know is that I was always an inquisitive child, curious for answers asking endless bounds of questions. My parents were very helpful in this development they always encouraged me to ask questions and listen and talk about anything and everything. I also had a passion for writing poetry and prose as a child. I remember being encouraged by my grade 2 teacher to never stop writing and I have listened to her. When I look back at my writings from childhood I see the wonder and curiosity I had that started from very young age and seemingly sprouted out of no where. My only explanation for it is that I must have been born with it. Even so I have never considered myself a writer or a poet or even an artist. (however with all this blog love I might started considering it)

That being said my real philosophical journey began after I dropped out of university. Once I left I began to read endless amounts of books about everything. I was so angry at being forced to read books during my 14 years in the education system. I always hated reading in school and being expected to have certain opinions or understand the book in a certain way. So I rebelled by reading as many books as I wanted on every topic that interested me (oh what a rebel, ha!). The more I read, the more I wrote, and the more I wrote the more I read. It was a continuous circle of thoughts, ideas and questions. Then one day in 2010 I went to Chapters Bookstore to pick up some books on the 2012 End of The World Prophecies as I had become weirdly curious with this concept. I pulled a book from a shelf and another book tipped over, my eyes were drawn to the tilted book and I was immediately intrigued by the title, it read The Book of Not Knowing By Peter Ralston. I picked it up and put it on the pile of others I had collected. When I got home I and in the following weeks I read through the 2012 books and was almost convinced that the world could realistically end in two years (ah how naive). A few days later I began The Book of Not Knowing and my mind was immediately expanded.

I have to admit with minimal education the book was difficult for me to read/understand but the book reassured me that what I was reading now, would make more sense later if only I would keep reading. So I did as it asked. Everyday I read more, I did the exercises it asked me to do. Some were writing exercises others were focussed solely on your thoughts and awareness. Every time I would read the book I could almost feel my mind being opened. The weird thing was that book was not providing me with any answers in fact it started making me question things that I thought I had the answers for.    Eventually I came to the near end of the book in which it asks you to re-read from the beginning because this was the point of no return. I was shocked. It had taken me months to get through the bulk of the book and now I was expected to re-read it before I finished it?! Needless to say I was irritated so I simply closed the book and pledged to myself that I would re-read it eventually but not anytime soon.

Well, it has been two years since I put the book down I have yet to re-read and finish it but yet I am still feeling the effects of what I read everyday. When I stopped reading the book was when my real, honest and true philosophical journey began. In the simplest sense The Book of Not Knowing made me question everything I thought I knew and contemplate anything that could ever be or not be. It recharged my love for curiosity, philosophy, ontology and life in general. I still plan on finishing it one day but not until I feel I’m losing sight on the things I have learned…or better yet unlearned.

Check it out:

http://www.amazon.com/Book-Not-Knowing-Exploring-Consciousness/dp/1556438575

http://www.gordoncstewart.com