Life traveled on in its normal daily path until one day it didn’t. One minute I was in the emergency room for abdominal pain. The next minute I had surgery. I woke up in a hospital room a few days later. (I’ve been told about the first two days. I’ll take the testimony of excellent witnesses.)
I woke up but I had no brain or rather the one I had refused to work in its usual creative ways. Worse It didn’t occur to me that I could read or write. I watched mindless TV, avoided all things political and fell asleep while people talked to me.
About a week later my brain started to wake up. I remember things more clearly. However, any creative brain cells remained stubbornly silent. One morning I realized that I had a really large window in my room. My brain said ‘Tweet.’ I did. I toke pictures. I wrote. I read a book again on my Kindle.
Below are the photographs and Tweets that tracked my journey from hospital vegetable to a poet who happened to be hospitalized.
A Tweeted Journal of a Hospital Poet
When life hands you a really big blow, have friend, family and fun therapy. Love, clouds after rain/a shaft of sun/hugs
I miss the breathing of trees/2weeks/hospital/I remember green gold lite/breathing white clean
Light of a new day/spreads watercolor over blue sky/Mt Diablo adds perspective/solid earth permanence/to the painting of today
Window to the world/Mt Diablo &/the new days joy
And the sun shouts/over Mt Diablo/clear speaking of day/to my hospital room
Trying to rain/CA autumn day/through the window/color flies to my eyes/feeds my soul
The First Walk
Evening sky bowl/color dances in the sky/trees darken into night/peace floods the air