Monday, October 18, 2010


Squirrel CPR Pictures, Images and Photos

Sometimes in winter, we'd cut class and go catch a movie. But in spring, we'd go to Manhattan to feed the squirrels in Central Park. It's a wonder we ever got our degrees. We were young lovers, not wanting to be disturbed by the nuisance of professors or other students. Instead, we wanted the romantic privacy of sitting under a tree. I would read, while he wrote. He wrote poetry to the stars, the moon and me.

Proudly he displayed it. I read it with some interest and slight appreciation. Then soon I dismissed it without a second thought. They were just his musings, his way of spending time...nothing important. At least that's what I thought then.

Later, after the wedding bells, everywhere we went he carried a camera. Not so patiently I waited while the tripod was set and the light shone just so. Many endless nights I kept him company (the good little wife) in the dark room, where the captures of the day came to life once more. Not until perfection developed, would he consider the photos finished. And I looked at them in wonder, not at their artistic merit, but at the enthusiastic perseverance that drove him to complete them.

Much has transpired - careers, more studies, family, life. Nowadays, he only talks about writing and the shutter of the expensive digital camera he owns doesn't seem to click with him.

I grieve at the missing and lost, not dead, artist I know. And faithfully, I pray that he is found.


Hubby harbors great talent. It is dormant now, and I wish it would resuscitate. His photography won him awards, one photo was published in the Daily News in New York. His successful exhibits of poetry and photography in New Mexico were innovative and replete with artistic strength. Perhaps I should fear the creativity that will explode once he recovers from this prolonged respite from the art he loves. He can spend hours on projects and the rest of the world ceases while he is in a creative mode. I miss that.

I am grateful for his support with my humble writing and I am sorry that I did not offer the same with his creativity. But today, I promise to love, honor and support the artist I live with. Maybe, we need to go feed some squirrels again.


  1. go feed those squirrels....smiles.
    i bet the muse is still there...

  2. all in good time, Myrna... he will find his inspiration, you'll see!

  3. You may both have a little more time now for creative endeavors, Myrna. This was so beautifully written!

  4. Seeing you commune with your muse may reignite his relationship with his own! Great post!

  5. Another very beautifully written post. Hope you have some time to go to nature and enjoy with him. This leaves me wanting to learn more from you.

  6. Welcome to our potluck party by linking in a poem, old one works well. Thanks!

    hope to see you in, we are closing within 12 hours, hurry up.
    love your fresh air like talent,

  7. Such a wonderful little gem about creativity, time, and marriage. The last line brought it all to a marvelous and concise gem-point like an ice skater or ballerina going on point!

    Aloha from Hawaii, Sis

    Comfort Spiral


  8. This was so beautiful. My husband is an artist as well. He's an actor, musician, and photographer. When we go walking in nature, he calls the squirrels with a funny little whistle he has. All the squirrels come running. It's the most amazing thing to see. I hope he feels I support him in his creativity and your post makes me want to strive to do so even more.

  9. What more a tribute does the husband need! You started this with a lovely anecdote from the past and connected it beautifully to the present. Lovely, by Jove! I guess you have to go to Central Park to feed the squirrels, again. Maybe you should ask him to start a blog and put up all his works there :)

    Here's to the couple!

    Joy always,

  10. Myrna,
    Thats was beautiful. you are warm, giving and honest. time for me to feed the squirrels.

    p.s. would love to see the (award winning) photo.

    enjoy your sunshine! Shannon

  11. I have the happy memory of having quoted Millay's Recuerdo (which is a romantic poem about the Staten Island Ferry) to a woman from Madrid while we were riding on that ferry. Her English wasn't great, but she loved me quoting it, and I loved her loving me quoting it.

  12. So very loving.

    Waiting for the right image--investing in creating it--is an act of love.


    two awards for you,
    invite you to join us at jingle poetry….