Bicycle

I’m proud to say that I want to be like my mother when I grow up. Ha; when I grow up. My mother has always been the youngest person I know: so full of life and ready for the next adventure. She taught me that life is truly what you make it. It can be about the picket fences and the nine to five or it can be about doing what you really want to. Don’t get me wrong, I think picket fences are cute and I’ve done my time but I wanted and still want more.

My friend Anna had moved to Japan, after living in England and Lithuania for some time. Working in youth hostels and mission fields she’s a gypsy I admire. I traveled during my time off, while she lived the travel and has the mud stains to prove it.

She was teaching English to a small school in Osaka and invited me to visit for the nth time. “I don’t know. It’s so far, costs a fortune, and honestly Japan has never been on my list.”

Never been on my list? What was wrong with me? I decided I needed to go, to be reckless, to do something frivolous because quitting my job to go on a six week trip to the Philippines wasn’t reckless enough. I needed to get out of my not-so-comfortable cubical and mundane every day.

So, I bought a ticket and found myself on a 13 hour flight to Japan. Hour six is the hardest. It’s when you realize that you no longer want to be in that can and know there is nowhere to go. Burdened with many forms of entertainment, forced sleep is what got me through it.

Anna met me at the airport, chauffeured by Maki, a now dear to me friend and Geisha. Excited to see someone from home, Anna was anxious to show me her Osaka, which of course meant playing Russian roulette with Octopus.

We hopped on her wicker basket adorned bicycle and started to pedal up the street. Wind in my hair, ass falling asleep from the metal bag holder over the rear wheel. I was on top of the world and thought I was Rose in that iconic scene from Titanic. Swerving here and there, off balance, the air tasted like frivolity, recklessness, and pollution.

I was grinning from ear to ear in my bliss.

Anna turned to me after we veered into traffic a second time and said, “Um, can you put your feet in? I’m trying to pedal here.”

An excerpt from my novel in progress, in response to this week's Theme Thursday's prompt.

Pen...er...keyboard

"I write, sometimes just to see the ink flow from the pen."

Some days the urge to write is so strong that it could be described as a need. I am a wordsmith. I love to see what you can create with words, seeing what you can do with them. I love how one sentence can mean a dozen different things. I love the creation and the intent behind it.

My days are spent at a computer. I'm an Instructional Designer by profession. (Not to forget a Bra Shop owner, which consumes a great deal of my time and passion) Every day I sit at the computer and think of creative ways to educate people on a particular software or concept. I ponder how to say something in such a way that everybody will hear it.

The computer is convenient and definitely compensates for this writer's lack of spelling skills. I also always change my mind, constantly thinking of how I can better that last sentence. Make it crisper, clearer, more complex, prettier...

But I still love the feel of a pen in my hand. The weight and beauty of a pen set aside for writing in my journal. Another pen set aside for creative writing. And yet another pen for creating lists. Giggle.

I've discovered some interesting blogs online recently that prompt you with writing themes for the week. I'm so in. We'll see what I create. My interests are many and often cyclical...but never fleeting is writing. In and around everything I do, I write.

Someday I hope to produce something I feel worthy of publishing. Not for any other reason than to say, "I did that".