RaeChild

Calligraphy and Design based in NYC

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mild mild midwest

To start the day off working in Times Square and arrive that evening at my in-laws home set amongst the Chicago cornfields, is to arrive at a place where time stands still just a bit. It's a place where you can follow a bird in flight through the open sky, flapping, flapping, working, then catching a small sail to ride it out just before starting it up all over again.

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Any country road will provide farm views as far as the eye can see. On my personal favorite, "Schoolhouse Road," there's a sweet stretch of earthen landscape dotted with dark silhouetted trees and modest silos, not unlike so many others. Neat rows of alternating green and brown chatter through the car window view as you pass by "Stagecoach Trail," the appropriately named cross street. You can't make these names up. Or maybe they do? One new construction housing development with a freshly paved entrance named "Prairie Crossing" didn't look like a prairie at all. Still a far cry from 34th Street or 5th Avenue, these quaint street signs, no matter how quickly driven past, give the passerby images of a less settled America.

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This is the start of the high season so soybean plots are still partially flooded over. The lush green rows recede to blue if you catch a landscape layered enough to give you a slim foreground, middle ground, and background, otherwise it's flat fields for miles. It's a welcome resting point in a busy life, a place to catch your breath under an embracing sky.

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If you'd like to be transported to this landscape you should read "So Big" by Edna Ferber, a fiction novel recommended to me by a wonderful client. You'll fall in love with cabbages all the while supporting a female author who was not only a paid writer in the 1920's but was also a member of the Algonquin Round Table - a mostly male literary group who met at the Algonquin Hotel in NYC for lunch everyday for nearly ten years. But you don't have to take my word for it.

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it's not everyday

it's not everyday, 

you have a friend untamed, unschrouded in convention,

just like you never will but almost can't be.

it's not everyday.

   ​

it's not everyday,

you get the call you imagined might happen,

except it's not at all what you'd expected.

it's not everyday.

  ​

it's not everyday,

the friends, the family, the impact you let go so long ago,

inherit back in with no time at all.

it's not everyday.

​  

it's not everyday,

you find your friend in the halo of your dreams,

wake up to see him in your coffee.

it's not everyday.

​  

it's not everyday, 

you have to stand up for your friend, find the words to explain,

that everyday will no longer be a day like anyday.

its not everyday.

​  

it's not everyday, 

you had a friend whos sailed the green sea,

to return into it.

it's not everyday.

​  

I had a friend that would walk with me looking at shop windows trying to help me decide what RaeChild would someday be. That was many years ago now, but the dream has always pursued me. Still undecided but enthused, I'm going to write my way out of missing this friend (never), while celebrating life's impossibilities and careful nuances. Through my eyes, with strength, courage, and God willing, some grace.

xoRR

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I made a promise, Mr Frodo. A promise! ‘Don’t you leave him Samwise Gamgee.’ And I don’t mean to! I don’t mean to.
— J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings