Candid Corvid Productions

“Not a fan of it.”

If there’s “too much water under the bridge,”
Over time, the bridge may get swept away.

“Intangibles are now intolerable!”

And because she’d always witnessed men in love walking away, she had thought that to turn generational tides, the solution would be if she endured and stayed, no matter what.

He had to remember and wake up again, someday.

And if she left, he’d forget – and their love would forever be lost.

But you can’t change a man’s mind once it’s locked.

She should have somehow realized this, from the start.

She was pregnant with their 2nd, having lost the first way before term.

They were living in Santa Barbara briefly, in the bottom half of a large house high up on the crest edge overlooking.

One night, they even saw a rocket launching from Vandenburg, pluming its bright light into the glories of Heaven.

She listened to Sarah McLachlan’s album “Surfacing,” praying for the day that he would, holding tight to him, although he didn’t seem to want her company.

She never got the chance to have a real conversation with him, and feared his rejection and shutting down everything if she tried.

So she just sang in the kitchen opening her heart to the universe in welcoming and trying to fashion a way through, making sure that she’d have herself together by birthing time.

He wanted to take her somewhere special, but she was wound up too tight.

He wanted her to follow his lead, but he was nowhere in sight.

Asking her to believe without proof’s insight kept being occluded by past experienced blights.

And her frustration flared because she was tired of playing the fool without any tangibilities.

She wanted him, and it was driving her crazy.

“What am I doing with my life!” It had been all too hazy.

Not for lack of trying or designing – but for efforts required to just keep surviving.

Holding ground was noteworthy and necessary, but not soul fulfilling.

I respond according to
What I’m presented with