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visual artist and writer marisol diaz

i am a self-defined Nuyorican creative (that is a Puerto Rican who is from both the isles of Manhattan, NYC and the Caribbean). I share daily in the joy of education and live in a cute port town in New York, in a 'teensy-weensy' apartment with my two dogs and canary named Valentino. Check out my Etsy shop for purchasable pieces. Please do not reproduce imagery off of this site without explicit credit and no derivatives may be made of my original imagery- Thank You.

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« On Growing an Ocean's Tail EXCERPT | Main | On Growing an Ocean's Tail Part I »

On Growing an Ocean's Tail Part II

3ww prompt: Desperate, Lapsed, Traveled

This piece is a continuation,,,please click on: Growing An Ocean's Tail to read part I.

On Growing An Ocean's Tale Self-Portrait

Lily was desperate. Time had lapsed in a painfully slow way. Even my bud seemed to halt all growth. I couldn't tell you how many days passed during what felt like no time at all. I began to feel restless my self, though I was still adamant on never ordering a key. Our hosts became more reclusive and began to simply leave the meals, even dinner simply sitting on the table for us. Lily took to pacing. She spent what felt like hours holding onto the gate staring out to the open, often empty road. Thats when the dreams started.

There was nothing around me only a haze of hot air. I could feel my bare feet sinking and recognized the sand's texture embracing my toes. In every direction there was only sand. I began to feel thirst as though I were a plant in desperate need of hydration, my emerald skin, shriveling into itself seeking moisture. Finally with no sound emanating from my throat I would start to cry just to gain liquid for breadth and challenge the dehydration. Thats when I saw the sirens emerging all around from the golden glittering sand and as ridiculous as it sounds they danced like Salome. Each looked so unique and so utterly brilliant like light splitting through a faceted jewel. They introduced themselves to me. I can't remember any of their names but one, the one who said she didn't arrive like the others, like me. She said she traveled to be here, willingly, knowingly and at peace. Her name was Tamara. That was when I would wake up with my hands wrapped around my throat gasping for air.


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Reader Comments (7)

I love that first paragraph, a long sense of nearly defeated hope. The reclusive hosts, and "Lily took to pacing." The dream is interesting, but I really like the first paragraph.

August 28, 2008 | Unregistered Commenterpjd

An excellent examination of desperation. You pull the reader in to the dreamscape.

August 28, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterAnthony North

this is a delicious tale... spun ever so well,, i am anxiously awaiting more installments.....

August 28, 2008 | Unregistered Commenterpaisley

what an interesting name, tamara, how did you come upwith that? you are soimaginative, brilliant really...i love the wonderfully smooth way this story spills out...

August 28, 2008 | Unregistered Commenterstainboy

Very well told. You do have a way with words!

Write away, woman!

August 29, 2008 | Unregistered Commentergautami tripathy

first of all, the picture is really cool. secondly, i agree with emery, the story just falls out really gracefully, its so nice to read. more please :)

August 29, 2008 | Unregistered Commentersteph

Wow. I'm hooked and really want to know what comes next.

And I LOVE the photo! Did you take it in PR? :)

October 16, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterTC

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