My Kinda Vintage…

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Many close to me know that I’ve had sciatica pain throughout my whole life. I hate to admit it because it makes me feel weak, like my spine is not as strong as normal people. But I cannot help it. I went to the doctor the other day complaining about my leg, knowing very well what he would tell me and he recommended proper physical therapy to me. Wow, now I really feel weak…and just as stubborn as a man. Me? Physical therapy? I’ve always carried more than I could handle, and you could take that both ways.

As a young girl, I was always changing my room around-interior decor was my thing. To this day, I’m still moving things around in my apartment-trying to get it just right. But the thing is, all those years and to this day, moving things around and carrying more than I could handle did this to me. A bulged disk…something that will never go away. Of course with physical therapy I could strengthen my spine and make the load less painful.

I learned the proper technique to Pilates in college when I took a class down the street at the Pilates studio. It’s all about breathing. When to breath in and breath out. I had the nicest instructor ever, and when the final came and I had to memorize all 25 sets and perform, I felt like a pro acing it. I don’t remember having sciatica pain during that semester. But that’s just the thing of everything. I have to keep up with it. I love it, but how can I find time working 40 hours a week after college? It’s my weakness.

Why is it that all the things we have to do get in the way with all the things we want to do? I’m finding after college to be an even harder journey discovering how to get there. A lost feeling invades me almost daily. What is there after college? It’s almost a let down to be honest.

Throughout everything that goes on in my modern life, light sheds hope every once in a while…leading me along, slowly. A feeling of that like a sunflower constantly facing the sun…the light. When I went in for this sciatica pain, I stopped at the book store, one of my favorite places. The coffee brewing, thousands upon thousands of new and old, signed and used books. It’s everything like the sun.

After looking over and over again in what seemed like the same spot, even going back to the isle twice, I finally found it. A collection of John Keats Poems and work. The feeling of satisfaction swept over me leaving me feeling awaken. His work has inspired me in my writing to such an extreme. The vintage, the Nature, the romance. It’s all too lovely to take.

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I now have his work at my bedside, inspiring me and reminding me to never lose hope on things that I want because…what is more soothing than a pretty hummer? Family, love, springtime, flowers, hummingbirds at my feeder, writing, and inspiration are my kinda vintage. I cannot hope to lose pain forever in one session, because without pain I cannot know what happiness is. I know what pain is-now it’s time to feel happiness.

 

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Bright Star: Falling into Purple Flowers

“I almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days–three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain” John Keats

Last night while sitting in my night class, I stumbled upon my fascination with vintage and John Keats when my professor showed us the film Bright Star. The vintage pink clothes, letters, poetry, and romance…I was in heaven! Truly amazing. I took romantic literature last semester, studying the famous John Keats and his love for Nature, or rather Fanny. If only he could have lived longer than just his twenties! I’ve tried and tried to pinpoint exactly what it is about a love like Keats and Fanny, where it only goes as far as a kiss and a private walk together on a wooded trail with each step sounding like a heart beat.

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Where falling in love with the girl next door is knocking on the wall to see if the other will reply. Placing your desk in front of the wall as if seeing her while working on his poetry. I have come to realize that, like poetry, you cannot pinpoint one thing, or try to make a meaning out of it. It just is! Keats tries to explain poetry to Fanny, then realizes he cannot. This is because he doesn’t understand women because of his fascination with them, or rather just her, much like my fascination with vintage and love. Don’t over think what is. It is beautiful because you are in it, not making meaning of it.

This love in Bright Star is the collection of letters that shows the hope one holds onto when they are in love. So in love, you fall back into a field filled with purple flowers after reading a letter from your love, and the scent of Jasmine reminds you of the bloom. The bloom when he was here. When Fanny lays down into those purple flowers and holds onto her little sister, it reminds me how much love really does exist, and it’s simple. As simple as Nature! That’s the secret to it all, quoting Keats, “If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.” Poetry is as simple as Nature. Therefore, love is as simple as Nature, falling into a field filled with purple flowers.