Two legs and a bum

This was written from my own prompt: write about what you see in this painting (Nature Forms – Gaspé by Georgia O’Keeffe). It’s interesting to observe the unconscious mind, to see where a random suggestion or starting point can take you once the words start to flow.

Two legs and a bum, face-down on black sand. A scarf laying across the calves, burgundy and white stripes. Torso and head enveloped in currents, the mist of a cool, humid coastline swirling over skin, kicking up sand—nature’s titillating massage.

Slowly the figure blends into Earth, absorbing the sand and lapping water, or absorbed by it. Atoms twirl like dervishes in nature’s vast kitchen, stirring air, water, beach, and body into one living thing. Something new and never before seen, yet the ingredients never change: dashes of us, dollops of atmosphere, stalks of trees, bowls of water, collections of rocks, piles of dirt.

Everything we are given to work with—all the material to create ourselves and our lives within reach—surrounding us, is us. Do we know what to do with it? Do you know the ancient recipes?