An Abstraction on the Frost

When I call something concrete, I’m calling it something tangible, something that catches light, with texture, temperature, weight. Today some lovely writers join me in using the concrete to speak of the abstract. How else can we show you the invisible things?

—

This morning the sky is charcoal black, and like theatre curtains they scroll back edged in navy to a new scene, soft sea gray. And there in the limbo, in the navy, is the moon, light trimming the sphere with a slivered crescent like a side-tilted centerpiece bowl. Straight above, Venus radiates, bounces up there like she might dance away.

Yesterday morning was warm, and then the rains woke us up during Sunday nap, thought it was the roof coming off but really it was the temperature crashing. Now the shroud is gone, and it is winter cold, not a cloud. The trees are all silhouetted in white. The frost makes a different kind of quiet, rattles roots and bones.

Up close, frost like snow crystallizes the yard in a million unique formations. I could spend forever looking too closely at the world. I shouldn’t, but I’ve been weighing my Titus every day to see if he’s gained. I chop down the hours on a sheet of paper to take advantage of an illogical schedule. I moan about the dog hair in the carpet. Recently a girlfriend mentioned a memory so full of God’s Grandeur that it shot her up 10,000 miles above current circumstance.

From inside through the window, my breath turns fog. There is more to all these struggles. There is Venus shining in the frost. My yard a sheet of diamonds.

As I consider a writer’s voice, I wonder how it is for you. If we all have one, I wonder about other things, other things that most of us have. Like the frost in your yard, for example. If voice is cadence and music and space, how you write out the matter in your life and the meaning it gives, what about the frost? It’s certainly different than in my yard. So how is it for you?  —  On Mondays I write out spirit by practicing a little with the concrete things in my life and maybe in a fictional life. If you want to mess around with these little prompts, send your readers this way, and link up below at any point this week. Practice writing, the craft; share it with us. The next topic is The Ornament, but we’ll take a break and wait until December 3rd for that link up. Make sure to use #concretewords on twitter. Thank you always for coming here and walking with me.

There’s a freedom I hear about that I just don’t always recognize in my life. I long to be free so much that maybe I’ve built a habit of feigning it. Would like to join me in exploring this path to true freedom? Follow along on Facebook or subscribe to these posts by email or in a reader.  Are you ready to shirk your chains? 

original image

Tagged as: blog on writing