Tuesday, December 20, 2011


Aloft on 9th Street. A photo collage ~ Michael Douglas Jones

Day 20: Friendship - What kind of a friend were you in 2011? What kind of a friend do you want to be in 2012?

I am not distant; I am right here, calling to you; I am an untethered balloon that moves away from where I want to go. I drop letters and drawings over the basket side to tell you, but they get caught up in the wind and drift away. I am not aloof; I am aloft, and cannot reach you.


There is no way around it; I am a recluse. I love this world; I love people; I care deeply, but there is a deeper feeling that has always been inside of me, that keeps me inside of me. I can’t call it fear; it is deeper than that. It possesses the whole of me, but to call it phobia sounds foolish. Reaching out is the most difficult movement to make; my arms, my voice, they fail me. I reach out through my art, through my written word, to tell you how I feel, to show how much I love you.

I’m getting better, but you already know
I will never call you, though I want to know that you are well.
I will never email you, but will always give a warm reply.
I will never ask to be your facebook friend, but will eagerly confirm.
I will never stop trying to be a better friend.

I am not cold; my eyes well up with compassion complete.
I reach out to the whole world, but cannot move my hands.
If you would just give me yours;
I am your best friend, I simply need a hand.


  1. my hand, extended out to you....

    for some reason, this made tears well up in my eyes, perhaps because i am so similar.

    although i have to tell you that i see you being a wonderful friend to so many, all of the time. you offer much of yourself, always with kindness.

    i am happy and honored to call you friend.

  2. Thank you so much, my friend; it is such a deep seated lifelong feeling. It doesn't make a bit of sense, yet it persists. I am working hard on it, still if I have to make a phone call, I hold my breath while I dial. Some sort of rejection response, I suppose, so seclusion satisfies.

  3. I connect with this on the deepest level. This is the shy person's lament...we want to express the love and care that we have for those in our lives, but always hesitate. I am one of these people...never quite ready to take the initiative, but always ready when you come to me.

    This really caused quite a clutch in my heart.

  4. Thank you Brandee; it is our lonely lament. I feel like our nerves are closer to the surface, so, from an early age, we feel each careless sting and whisper, withdrawing more each time.

  5. Like Kelly, my eyes filled with tears, and like Kelly, perhaps because I feel so similar. I don't know you well, but the part I know feels like a friend. A true friend. With his heart in his hands.

  6. Thanks Deb; it seems to me that we do have much in common (besides Jeeps). You're right; maybe that's why it's hard to reach out; my heart's in my hand and I fear I'll drop it.

  7. And I thought it was just me. It shouldn’t surprise me that the artists I most admire belong to this group. Kelly and I once thought we should start a hermits anonymous program, until we realized that none of us would leave our house to come to meetings.


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