amurin

her bio, lifted from “Stop and Wander“, followed by a comment also sifted from there.

amuirin– I’m a blue-skinned bellydancer from the planet Melio 5 (not to be confused with the much more infamous Melio 15, home of Whilse Cornflapper, the 8 tongued double jointed gigolo/horse bandit). I have long, glittery pink hair and three earth degrees in Home Economics, Feminist Studies, and Deviant Psychology. I love horse back riding, long walks in the swamps and double bacon cheeseburgers with chocolate coated puppydog tails. I have been searching for a mate for a long time, but it’s hard to find an earthling who sings like David Bowie and can breathe underwater.

My goal in life is to someday harness my energies to write a big book of lies, instead of just typing small, sorry, manageable ones.

I live here. coastline2.jpg

That’s often enough to make people jealous.

……………………….

Amurin, I enjoy the rhythms I find in your writing – rhythms of breathing, waking, sleeping, tossing and turning, coming and going, moon rise and moon set, the dark troughs and translucent spattering crests of waves breaking, opening, merging, receiving –

of friends disappearing, vanishing, sometimes returning and time unrolling out to its end over nothing, or something? I have to wonder if we all scrawl the same questions across our creations? “Who are we? What are we? Where do we come from? Where are we going?”

 

……………………….

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This entry was posted in amuirin, best bios, friendshp, poetry, stop and wander, storytelling, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to amurin

  1. amuirin says:

    Look what you did. 🙂

    I’m glad to see you. I wonder what you’ve been up to and where you’ve been. If only there was some sort of digital, textual record to follow…

    *kisses your cheek*

    Like

  2. Wonderful lift, Rick, and Amurin, your site intrigues me.
    The comment reminded me of the fragility of cyber friendship,
    where like a potted plant, it needs daily nourishment, or it
    can wither, fade, even disappear. Yet in the midst of that, in
    spite of that, sometimes there are “real” connections, and
    Rick, you make many of us feel just that, friends connected
    to your life, your family, your writing, your art. The universe
    had to injure you, to slow you down long enough to turn some
    of your magnificent focus back on us, those friends in the cyber
    mists of yesterday, who still care about you.

    Like

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