From time to time you’ll see Stolen Moments show up on the blog. Words forgotten and misplaced, poetry, anticipatory memories, prose, joy and sorrow, pensive emotion, random and not so random thoughts scribbled in tattered notebooks. To not forget but remember the precious, fleeting stolen moments in time. I’m a writer trying recapture on paper how it feels to be alive.
by Jacqueline Cioffa
I would like to lead a dark, sophisticated life
I dream of a fancy lady in spiked heels, red nails and lips and such
She wears corsets to breakfast
and dines on champagne and caviar
Instead I run away from fame and all it’s trappings
I’m a messy sneaker wearing practical jeans girl
transparent to the touch
I know it’s crazy but I miss you everyday
more not less
I don’t need a prince charming just a soft whisper
A subtle nod, bittersweet embrace
Ask me to cross an ocean and I’d do it for you
Even for just five minutes
I don’t care I’m not proud though I am scared
I’m sophisticated just enough
This is my story.
Boots and a bag, sherbet sunrise, an extended furlough at the beach, the Cove, side-trip to the bayou and the self-confinement of four walls inside a nowhere home (a whole lot of love, shock and awe, bizarre happens, heartbreak, joy, birth, rebirth, gritty life stuff). Dual realities co-existing in parallel space and time.
Bam we’re back to the boots and full throttle.
The Vast Landscape and Georgia Pine are continuums; sagas and gatekeepers.
One cannot be without the other.
I know precisely how EVERGREEN starts and where the heroine/ narrator ends.
Everything else is a dust storm of blood, tears and sunshine.
Time to kick up the dirt, get chaotic and trust the ride.
I love the messy middle.
I live for the mess, and it’s all in the middle.
“It’s a roll, rock and a break. Let her ride.” – Jacqueline Cioffa
I love GEORGIA PINE. I can’t wait to see how her story unravels. I love everything about her, crimson waves of strength, the direct extension of Harrison. Maybe, I did not want the The Vast Landscape to end, lost without my friend, daily companion, experience the death of someone too close. I needed a pause to reflect, the beautiful chaos that is Harrison. Families are strange, captivating complexities. I find human behavior both horrifying and fascinating. So there is room, more life experience to tell. We’re not finished yet, Harrison and I. Today, I wrote one sentence to Georgia Pine. One really good, authentic, brave sentence. Yesterday, I banged out three Chapters. They weren’t exactly ‘banged out.’ They’d been ruminating in mind for weeks, as I went about my very mundane, regimented day, the characters entertained me. I wait, not rushing my process, (ha, couldn’t if I tried) The stories as real to me as oxygen. I know I need it, to exist, to go on, to feel anchored while my brain travels in too many opposing directions. Life propels forward, shit happens out of my control. Georgia Pine. is carefully constructed, calculated fantasy sitting in truth. A fellow writer once said, “write the truth your reader can always tell.” 41,700 words of candor means the story isn’t finished yet, my story isn’t done. There is more honesty and no bullshit to be told.