I know what the dirt tastes like. I’ve had a mouth full of it so many times I can almost recognize the earthy elements and distinguish between the minerals, how the gritty grains get stuck in your teeth, and the metallic taste it leaves in your mouth. That’s the result of intimate knowledge. But, before you get too lost in this blog post, I’m speaking metaphorically here. Though as a very active and imaginative child, one unafraid and daring, I’ve had my mouth full of natural dirt plenty of times to be able to draw a complete illustration.
I missed my mark and have fallen on my face. It hurts, especially along the jawline, the end of the nose and my eyes are swollen almost shut. Yet, as I try and catch my breath, blowing dirt all into my face, my eyes and up my nose, I’m moving. My hands are firmly pressed on the ground and I’m pushing. I can barely bend my neck back and see anything but the ground beneath me, but I’m starting to make out the road set before me. My back hurts, my knees sting, and I smell the tang of blood in my nose, but I’m alive. I have survived and I am picking myself up.
Till next time,