We start with still-lives [this is expected]. Bowls of fruit arranged on tables, requisite apples, pears, grapes. A curious pineapple has snuck its way in. A thin vase with a lonely flower, child-sized chairs stacked just so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m suspicious of stillness. I focus on stop-motion squirrels in the window, trees revered then forgotten, their limbs jutting into the horizon. My fingers bruised with purple ink\u2014lefties never quite fit\u2014I mix my colors into mud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am a valley among peaks, compressed before raised. Chronically razed. A blank page soaked, body curled, unqualified. A landline phone affixed, wire enjambed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You see quirks where I know cracks, flip full magazine pages while I hold jumbled pieces. Newspaper clippings in halves, longing, flexed and ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am voracious in my wanting to know, but knowing isn\u2019t a crux. A diagnosis is just a notation, a string of digits for billing. A confirmation growing hazy, quickly [but also slowly] moving away. Unimportant in its arrival: a shrug, a nod.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am quiet while you speak, watching. Not quite listening, while you explain to me what I have lived. I think of the Xanax bottle on the shelf, the set of new paints, unopened. To be enjoyed at the summit. Balls of clay in a box, lazily waiting. A bowl of apples, a single stem.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We start with still-lives [this is expected]. Bowls of fruit arranged on tables, requisite apples, pears, grapes. A curious pineapple has snuck its way in. A thin vase with a lonely flower, child-sized chairs stacked just so. I\u2019m suspicious of stillness. I focus on stop-motion squirrels in the window, trees revered then forgotten, their limbs … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2437","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pa867U-Dj","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2437","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2437"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2437\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2440,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2437\/revisions\/2440"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2437"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2437"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2437"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Taryn Ocko Beato is a writer, mixed media artist, and audiobook producer. She studied creative writing and film at the University of Rochester, and received a Master of Arts from the Newhouse School at Syracuse University. Taryn lives in New York with her husband, son, and sweet rescue dog, Darby.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"