Joat116 Posted March 11, 2008 Report Posted March 11, 2008 A weathered man moved forward down a winding path. Weathered? Moved? It seems an odd choice of words. Not weathered... perhaps... aged? No, that implies he was elderly and he is not. Seasoned? No, the connotation of experienced follows too closely and he is most certainly not that. What is he then? Certainly he is more than he was. Yet he is by no means complete or near the end of his journey. Perhaps there is no word that fits. Perhaps he is just a man with a past as all men have and a future stretched out before him. And moved? As weathered said too much moved says too little. He did not simply float forward at some steady predetermined rate. At times he trudged, barely able to move forward at all. At times he moved lightly almost dancing over the ground under him. Joyous and exuberantly he traveled over the roads he chose. Moved conveys none of this. Moved is generic and unappetizing. Perhaps the man traveled. Travel carries with it the air of the exotic, the idea of variety. I think it appropriate. A man traveled forward down a winding path. Others joined him as he went, picking his way through the elaborate system of paths seemingly at random. Others? How vague. How generic. They were not others. They were friends, enemies, loves and losts. They were the people that made up his life. I've heard people say before, "He lead a life of great events." How sad I feel for them. How much more privelaged they would have been to lead a life of great people as I have. I apologize, I've digressed. Others however is clearly not appropriate. Friends? But they were not all friends. Is there any word that encompasses all those that touch our lives? I can think of none. Here then I'll create what I need. They were Tramin. Tramin joined him. And the Tramin did not join him. He was not a leader of Tramin. He held no station above any of them in the rankings of life. Their paths simply joined with his for a time and then more often than not diverged. Nor did he pick his way. He followed a very certain route. I do not know how it was marked. I saw no indications nor signs that said he must move this way or that. Yet there was never hesitation as he turned this way or that. No, he did not pick. He followed. A man traveled forward down a winding path. Tramin touched him as he went, following his way through the elaborate system of paths. For most their touch lay on him lightly. The whisper of a breeze caressing his skin. But some held him as he traveled. Their existence as much a part of him as he himself was. At times he noticed the paths took him to places he had been before. More often than not he smiled in recognition as he saw again Tramin whose paths had diverged from his own for a time. At times Tramin he found particularly pleasing would begin to diverge from his path and though he tried to hold tight to them it is impossible to keep another from walking the path they follow. The loss of his favorites always stung. The comfort of their touch was impossible to replace though other Tramin came and went. Yet he always hoped that their paths would again come together so he might once again walk with them. Hi Tramin I thought I might stop by, say hi, stuff like that. I would have continued with the out loud editorial work but I felt things were growing a little overlong and tedious. Regardless! I hope everyone is well and happy -Joat (Endless list of titles listed here)
Tralla Posted March 12, 2008 Report Posted March 12, 2008 It's a regular reunion round these parts lately! A very sincere welcome back, Joat. Good to see you're doing well. This Tramin is glad to cross your path again. =)
The Portrait of Zool Posted March 14, 2008 Report Posted March 14, 2008 Zool wakes up with a start in his portrait. Realizing a momentous occasion has passed, he looks as far left and right as he can, before muttering, "I do hope he stays a bit - I've certainly missed that Tramin."
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