Intimacy Contest
Posted by Robin Easton
INTIMACY OF FLOWERS: An intimate look at flowers: their colors, shapes and enduring beauty. A simple 2:35 minute slide show with some thoughts on intimacy at the end of the sideshow. Again, the music is a piece I dreamed and recorded.
Okay my very wise friends, this week I ask each of you to share your thoughts on intimacy. For this contest we will NOT include intimacy between lovers, spouses, etc. That form of intimacy is beautiful, but today we are trying to uncover something different. For example: you’ve often heard me refer to my intimate relationship with Life or Nature, both are relationships I experience daily. Today I ask you to share a moment in which you experienced intimacy. Or you can share your definition of intimacy. The reason for excluding “lover or spousal intimacy” from this contest is to explore a broader concept of intimacy. At the end of the video, in the credits, I have shared some of my thoughts on what it means for me to LIVE intimately.
All comments of substance will be put into a hat and the winner drawn. By “substance” I do not mean that your comment has to be long or that it can’t be humorous, as both brevity and humor can be intimate. But your comment has to be more than: “Great post. Loved the slide show.” (Chuckle) Although I appreciate ALL comments, to have your comment go into the hat it must be more than, “I love flowers.” The winner will receive a brand new Daintree Rainforest Project t-shirt. (Sm, Med or Lrg – See Photos Below)
I will let the contest run for about a week (or more if needed), unless comments slow down then the contest will be closed. I’ll notify you of the winner in my next post. Have fun exploring what it means to live a life of intimacy.
I look forward to your insights.
Have fun,
Robin
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This Site: © Robin Easton
Website: http://www.nakedineden.com
Blog: http://nakedineden.com/nakedinedenblog/
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35 Comments so far...
Liara Covert Says:
11 February 2009 at 3:46 pm.
The French philosopher Decartes said, “I think, therefore I am.” He did not hesitate to admit that absolute certainty was beyond doubt, but that did not mean he decisively explained intimacy with the self. He queried how can a person can get-to-know himself with objectivity? What would that require?
Years later, Jean-Paul Sarte realized that thinking was separate from consciousness. Stepping back a level enables you to observe what you are thinking, but is this true intimacy? To identify with any dimension of your thoughts or feelings is to get closer to them while you are also distancing yourself from identification. To identify with a train of thought does not enable you to grasp the full significance of your expanded perspective.
If intimacy is to be understood as a new vantage point, this place enables you to completely distance from all the labels and masks you initially adopted. In other words, losing everything you associated with intimacy in human terms is necessary before you truly gain everything. It may be a feeling of inner peace that surpasses all conscious understanding. You can go there anytime, but you only grasp the implications after you give up everything you once associated with who you thought you were. That was not you. What you are is indescribable, imperceptible and all-knowing. This kind of intimacy is a truth that is only ever felt when a being is ready.
Robin Replies
Hi dear Liara, The thing in your comment here that I really know with my body is this last paragraph. I LOVE it. On one of my video-slideshows INFINITE POSSIBILITIES I use the line: “Have you merged with Life so completely that you forgot yourself and remembered who you are?” In the rainforest I went through a death of Robin, which I am writing about in my second book, and a rebirth. It was a death filled with as much grieving and loss as any real death. In that death of self I recognized that ALL that I “thought” was me was NOT. And once all I “thought” was me was brought to light, seen for what it was and let go, there was nothing left. NOTHING. BUT it was in this nothingness that I heard a voice speak: “You are not alone. I am with you.” I was as empty as the Grand Canyon with wind whistling and howling it’s way through my vast walls. AND YET, I was finally at peace. I had no attachment to anything. I just was/am. AND I felt more familiar to myself than ever before. Nothing mattered and everything mattered. —Thank you for sharing here.
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lavinka Says:
11 February 2009 at 3:48 pm.
Intimacy of me does not exist. Somehow never ashamed of specific parts of my body more than another. But paradoxically, precisely because not go in a bikini and do not wear skirts shorter than knee. Actually, I like to cover everything except face. Then no one can comment that I’m skinny. I do not mind it, but others, especially fat – unfortunately yeah.
Robin Replies
My dear sweet Polish friend, I think you are lovely. You are like the white swans on the lake that you photograph. You are graceful, elegant, contained and your photography conveys an intimacy with the world around you, your connection to beauty and Life. Always be you, as it is beautiful and kind, and the world needs both.
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Alexander M Zoltai Says:
11 February 2009 at 3:51 pm.
I experience intimacy in my relationship with the sky–whether during the opening of my eye to the light from the moon and stars, especially through my large, powerful binoculars, or during my consultation with folks over a map of the heavens at their birth…
Robin Replies
Oh yes, Alex, this would indeed be an intimate experience. There is something SO humbling about the vast endless heavens that lends us perspective of the most intimate kind. There is such a sweetness to this intimacy. It is up close and personal and yet at once vast and far reaching. I’ve been invited to go out to the college this summer and look at the stars through the HUGE telescopes. I think it will blow my mind. —I also imagine it could be the same when you are looking at the stars at the point of someone’s birth. It could be a very moving, and yes, intimate experience. I am glad it is this way for you. Thank you dear Alex.
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Michelle (Artscapes) Says:
11 February 2009 at 4:05 pm.
Great idea Robin! I have needed an excuse to re-frame an experience from early this morning….
I had an interesting experience of intimacy very early this morning. Shared intimacy actually. My cat got intimate with a skunk and felt it was appropriate to share the experience with us all. As the smog began to fill the house, I rushed to bathe my cat in vinegar and baking soda before we were poisoned beyond human recognition. Bathing a cat is a kind of intimacy that can have sharp consequences – especially when all claws are out. With no time for special gear and with it being mid-winter, we had no choice but to do all of this inside. Wanting to avoid the cat getting intimate with the furniture in his condition, I ended up sharing the quarantine with him.
Skunk is a rare presence up here in February, an unusually steep thaw has brought out the critters early. We have four feet of snow, I knew there was no way these two creatures would have been able to avoid each other on the narrow highways of winter. I think the lesson here was that intimacy demands respect. The cat learned it and we can learn that as we move further into Nature’s wild places, we must respect these places and creatures we seek intimacy with – or pay the uncomfortable consequences.
Robin Replies
Oh Michelle, what a story. I laughed out loud when I read, “My cat got intimate with a skunk.” I knew where this was headed. I’ve been there, done that. And I started laughing right THERE, before I read any further. Then I said, Oooooh poor YOU!!! In a CLOSED house. Mine was in summer, outdoors. I do NOT know how you stood this inside. You must have gone partially blind. LOLOL!!! Are you still alive?? 
—That is wild that you are having a thaw and it’s bringing everything to life. I’m hearing about so many wild weather patterns all over the globe. —NOW, the other thing you said, which I just LOVE is that intimacy demands respect. I learned this during my years in the rainforest. I had to EARN my right to the wisdom of the forest. I had to earn it by aligning myself with the energy of the forest and letting go my fear, my selfish and unrealistic demands, my chaotic energy from the outside world. And I had to do it in many cases, as you say, to stay alive or suffer the consequences of possibly being bitten by a poisonous snake or stung by a poisonous jellyfish or stinging tree. YES, to be intimate with Nature demands respect and awareness. Such a wonderful insight Michelle. Oh wow, I love it. Thank you so much for taking the time to share both the humor and insight. Well done!!!
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horatio salt Says:
11 February 2009 at 4:42 pm.
When I was twelve years old, I was hiking in deep snow on a farm and became so exhausted that I fell forward and could not get up. An hour passed. I was too tired, and the snow was too inviting, and the barn looked a thousand miles away, and I thought I could just lay there forever, perhaps even die there, intimately bonded with the soft bed of ice white crystals by the seductive power of earthly gravity. [As they say, the earth sucks. If it didn't, we'd all fall off.]
Robin Replies
Oh my dear HS, This beautifully shared story immediately took me back to when I was 3 or 4 years old, before my school years started. I used to play with my older brother and sister out in the snow all day. Feet and feet of snow dumped in a single storm (in Maine). As I read this I could actually smell the snow and feel the slight cold through my jacket as I lay on my back in 3 feet of freshly fallen snow, looking up at the gray-white sky and flakes still falling, landing on my face and melting, sticking out my tongue to catch them as they fell. I could not see where Earth stopped and Heaven began in this world of white. I know that you understand. It is a solitary and intimate experience that imprints itself on us forever. I am glad you had these farm experiences. They have so beautiful shaped the deepest part of you. I am grateful for that because you see and know. And I love that you “remember”. You are truly a romantic in these intimate rememberings of yours, which you often share here. I think they would make a wonderful book, either for kids or kids and adults.
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Julie Says:
11 February 2009 at 4:45 pm.
I’ll try to describe my most intimate moments (within your parameters 
), and there you will find my definition.
When I am near trees and under the stars, when I am quiet, all my cells calm and at rest, I feel myself soften, start to fade…and I feel the trees grow larger and move toward me and I feel the stars become larger and lower themselves nearer to me. My body dissolves and expands at the same time, and I touch and am touched by these elements of nature. We connect in an elemental way that knows no boundaries, our essences communing with each other in peaceful all-knowing comfort and acknowledgment of being. We know each other. …and our souls smile.
Robin Replies
Dear Julie, Ooooh, how I relate to this. This describes my years in the rainforest and even today my time in the desert. You wrote: “I feel the trees grow larger and move toward me and I feel the stars become larger and lower themselves nearer to me.” I think this is one of the most beautiful lines I’ve ever read about a relationship with Nature. It is straight out of the romantic nature writer’s of the past. I know this type of opening of heart to Nature/the world, and when open, how Nature/the world moves closer in all of it’s beauty. It is especially profound for me in Nature. But I do experience it also with humanity. I don’t think I know any greater passion than to completely be in love with Life, to be so merged in ecstasy with Life that I forget myself and am in love with all things. Thank you my dear friend for sharing SUCH beauty. It is sweet beyond words.
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Carol Says:
11 February 2009 at 4:57 pm.
((enjoyed your music accompaniment, relaxing, yet had an emotional energetic feel))
This is something, no one knows about me.
I have an outlandish intimacy with…. death.
I have soul searched myself. Looking into myself. Not others.
I have soul searched my way back home to my religion.
I have soul searched allowing me to find my angels.
I have soul searched my way finding balance between religion, our own guides and life after death.
Learning there really is no permanent death.
Brushing shoulders with mortality, I have soul searched my way fearing it no more.
Thereby giving me a strange intimacy with physical death.
This is not a morbid intimacy, or a twisted fascination, rather an understanding. An understanding that woke me up to see every color brighter, hear every bit of laughter louder, everyone’s opinion is worth pondering. Every time my daughter or husband walks through the door at the end of the day feels like a celebration to me. The bewilderment in a child’s eyes is awe inspiring.
I’m enjoying every inch of life, sweeter then ever before. Brushing shoulders with death opened my eyes. When it wants me, that’s ok. I will be ready and I will have no regrets.
What an odd relationship.
Intimacy with death. Or is it a new intimacy within myself.
Robin Replies
Dear dear Carol, How remarkable this is, and you are! I relate to this so strongly. When I went into the rainforest years ago I was dying. I developed an amazing relationship with death. It is not, as you say, morbid. It is in fact a sterling clear relationship with LIFE. Death is the MOST amazing guide which if allowed will lead us straight to Life. It can give us reason for living more intimately, more deeply, savoring every moment, every color, every laugh, hug, smile, tree, sunset and sunrise. Death is (can become) our reason for living. There is nothing odd at all about what you shared here, and there is EVERYTHING right about it. Most people never stop to look at death long enough to realize that what they fear is NOT death, but rather they fear NOT living. So when we embrace the reality of death, we embrace LIFE my friend. Just as you are doing EVERY SINGLE MOMENT. I too live like this, Carol. I hear you. When we embrace the concept of Death we then can embrace Life more fully. Death is only our reminder to let go that which does not matter, let go our hates and prejudices, let go our petty differences and forgive, let go and LIVE. Let go and LOVE. You are VERY wise indeed. I am honored that you shared this here today. I feel connected.
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Chrissy Says:
11 February 2009 at 5:28 pm.
I think you mean that intimacy when you are alone………and you have to have been “alone” IMHO to experience it. It is when you are on a mountain, in a field, in the wood, watching the sea by yourself and talking to the things round you. You will probably be talking silently…but you are “at one” with those surroundings. Sometimes, it gets even better and something really special adds to the occasion……..
I can think of lots of occasions in my life where it happened and then you just catch your breath at the beauty. I cannot explain entirely but for example I sat by the sea and watched the sea …but then in the next moment there was a sea otter playing, he was breathtaking innocent and beautiful and diving through the wave and playing in the surf…I wish I could let people see it in the way I saw it… 
I sat in my garden and watch a chrysalis unfold …a few moments whilst the wings dried in the sun and then a beautiful butterfly flew.
I could list so many things like this…and you know I’m sometimes humbled by how easily they accept our presence…
Great post
Robin Replies
Oh Dear Chrissy, this is magical. It gives me more insight into you and your art and natural ease-filled wisdom. I to know this feeling in Nature and you are so right about the special additions that come along like the sea otter. They are so captivating makes us revel in the fact that we are alive. They are the things we live for. I have seen this with beavers in my canoe when I lived in Maine and they came to check me out and swam all around my canoe, inches from my hand, for about 20 minutes. —I know so well this humble feeling you speak of: “I’m sometimes humbled by how easily they accept our presence…” I have felt this so many times when I am with Nature and it always brings me to tears. Their trust, curiosity and acceptance is profoundly humbling. This past summer I was exploring some Native American ruins and a little rattlesnake darted out of some tall grass and was about 1 1/2 to 2 feet from me and he stopped when he saw me and we just “stood” calmly looking at each other and then he went on his way when he knew I was no threat. I was very touched and saw his little being or spark of life as so beautiful. He was only a baby. But I felt honored. Thank you Chrissy.
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Michael C. Dewey Says:
11 February 2009 at 5:52 pm.
I’ll pass this link on to others, who may have yet not found wordpress.
Robin Replies
Heeeey my friend, Thank you for the kindness, I appreciate it much.
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Mike Foster Says:
11 February 2009 at 6:18 pm.
What I loved about your video, Robin (besides the bittersweet piano melodies), was the subtle intimacy, that sometimes goes unnoticed, of nature. Bravo! I will need to pull a rabbit out of my video hat to top that masterpiece.
As for a form of intimacy that I enjoy: going back to video–the intimacy between my “performing” persona and the camera is a personal experience only those, like yourself, can understand. There’s also the private, intimate moments of writing, the struggle and euphoric breakthrough between the mind and the blank page; passions so natural they have become an integral part of me.
peace,
mike
livelife365
Robin Replies
Hi Dear Mike, First I am touched by your kind comment re: my music and video. You know why. I mean, you are so good at what you do. So honestly, it really does encourage me to keep learning how to do them and to be creative in my ideas, expressions and music. —I’ve a feeling you have a LOT of rabbits in your hat!! —I am excited about what you wrote here in terms of filming being an intimate experience. I had not thought consciously about this, BUT have felt it every single time. The moment you mentioned it I knew exactly what you were talking about. I find I even get to know a part of myself better when doing it. Amazing, huh? And of course, being a writer, I REALLY related to the relationship between my emotions and the blank page. These two examples of your intimate relationship with the camera and the blank page were very unexpected and unique, and both examples I relate to. Thank you mike for seeing them AND sharing them!!
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Janis Kelly Says:
11 February 2009 at 6:38 pm.
As I define it, intimacy is the state of seeking the divine, or that which you think of as “God/Goddess,” and ultimately finding it within yourself. In other words, intimacy is recognizing that you exist in a state of oneness with that which created you. A great example of this can be found in nature (say flowers, perhaps), in which life springs forth from seeds/soil (source) and remains in an intimate relationship with it for its entire life. When you take the flower from its source, it ultimately dies, ala cut flowers. However, if the flower lives out its natural life in oneness with the soil, it will ultimately become food for future versions of itself. Hence, it is vital that the flower remain connected to its source. I think the same is true of humans; we just don’t realize it or demonstrate it in such a “cut-and-dried” way (no pun intended). Finally, I think that, as humans, we have an easier time connecting with nature and recognizing the divine in it and our connection to it, which, in turn, can help us to recognize it within ourselves and, thus, forward us on our path toward true intimacy.
Robin Replies
What a treat to see you here Janis. I’ve visited your lovely site and an honored. I found your analogy of the flower needing to be connected to it’s source a beautiful one, which I understand well. I realized many years ago when I was much younger that my deepest pain of all was that I was not living in connection with my “source”. I explored many other pains, but it was not until I realized my disconnection from source that I began to heal. For me, I cannot live without it. I AM it. I love your words: “…intimacy is recognizing that you exist in a state of oneness with that which created you.” Oh yes, a continual state of communion with that which created me. As I told Liara in response to here comment on this page: A merging of myself so complete that I forget myself and remember who I am. Thank you for this lovely sharing Janis. I am pleased to see you here. Your voice is beautiful and your words from the heart.
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eddie Says:
11 February 2009 at 8:00 pm.
Back in the nineties, on one of my numerous off season road trips I was in Ocean Shores Oregon, on the north coast. Now i have a tendency when i travel to seek out ‘significant’ locations in any given landscape. Usually I hone in on them psychically or through local lore. Often times it involves a lot of scrambling and climbing to land on a place of spiritual importance. In this case it was all too easy as there was a road up to a ‘jumping off point for parasailers.
One drives up a precipitous and winding road. At the top the winds coming upslope have been clocked at over 150 mph. Obviously this was a ‘significant’ locale. I ‘m sure much ceremony had been conducted here long before the whites inhabited the area. The view is unobstructed to the horizon. Looking below are the tops of two exceeding tall ‘seastacks’.
On my journey to this point the day was drawing to a close. Sunset. An unusual phenomena had taken place for the Pacific ocean. It was smooth as glass, not a ripple. Soon the horizon line disappeared. I was confronted with one of the most spectacular sunsets I had ever seen. Unable to discern where the water ended and the sky began it became a kaleidoscope of color.
Somewhere in this I lost my sense of ‘separation’ or otherness from nature and the passage of time…became the mountain…or the sea in this case.
I remember very well my wobbly departure…struggling to keep the car on the road, shaking and working to gather the disparate elements of ‘my self’ back into my mortal carcass.
Thanks Robin for creating this venue to allow us to get in touch with some intimate moments!
eddie
Robin Replies
Dear eddie, I FELT this rather than read it. I was experiencing this as you told it or as you felt it, I sensed it almost as a falling. My body knew where you were headed before you spoke the words. My whole being dropped right into this experience of yours. I think your energy of the experience was still lingering on the words. These lines made tears spring to my eyes immeditely:
“Somewhere in this I lost my sense of ‘separation’ or otherness from nature and the passage of time…became the mountain…or the sea in this case.”
AND
” I remember very well….. …..working to gather the disparate elements of ‘my self’ back into my mortal carcass.”
If you ever read my rainforest book, which hopefully will be out this year, in it I write about a couple of similar experiences of trying to get back into my body. It the end I just lived almost fully merged with the forest around me. It was an interesting learning experience when I returned to the world of humans and actually chose not to merge with everything. In the wild it is easy, clean and safe to merge with all things. —I sense that your experience here was powerful beyond words. I am made richer by your sharing of this experience. Thank you eddie. You know it means a lot to me.
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eddie Says:
11 February 2009 at 8:03 pm.
PS To all that post here, and count Robin as a friend…your a ‘winner’ already!
Robin Replies
Oh, another comment, a twofer from you!! I love it. I’m chuckling. I’m honored. I’m happy!! Thank you from my heart eddie, Robin
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Larry (Guitar Musings) Says:
11 February 2009 at 9:52 pm.
After watching your video and reading your words, I think of the intimacy I share with my guitar. When I pick it up, it can sometimes feel cold to the touch. But as I hold and play the guitar, it warms to my body. On the really good days, there are times when I can’t tell where my fingers end and where the strings and fingerboard begin. It’s an extension of my body, of who I am and I can’t think of anything more intimate than that.
Wonderful playing and photos. Thank you!
Robin Replies
Well Hellooooo Larry! So good to see you today. I restrung my guitar the other day and thought of you as I modestly plucked my way along, trying to feel my way into a steel string guitar. Ooooh, my fingers hurt. A little at a time. —Wow, experience you shared here is music at it’s most fundamental existence. You have described it SO well too. You became the music, the experience and forget yourself. What I found exciting in reading this was that I realized that pretty much all my piano playing is thusly done. It’s the only way I could play as I don’t read music and I don’t even play other people’s songs by ear. I simply play how I FEEL. And sometimes what I hear in my body or head. This is a remarkable experience you have shared here and one I understand. In fact, reading this, Larry, made me realize that if I THINK about my playing I usually can’t play. I go blank and my hands don’t know where to go. But if I forget myself my hands just GO. They express what I feel. You are surely a highly gifted musician who has a spiritual relationship with your guitar and music. In light of that your words of praise mean much to me. They mean much to me regardless. Thank YOU!
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Kit Says:
11 February 2009 at 11:10 pm.
There are few things more intimate than breastfeeding your newborn child. It is intimacy with another human creature, yet it remains a form of intimacy with yourself and with the universe at large. Like so many things involving children, it is simultaneously vast and microscopic in scope.
Robin Replies
Oh what a wonderful wonderful thing to share. You know, KitMama, you have such a refreshing view of parenting and children. I see it over and over again. As I was reading all the comments here and responding. One of the main themes is this merging with the OTHER. Forgetting ourselves and merging. Another theme (and they go together really) is the connection BETWEEN. land and sky, hands and guitar, flower and Earth, baby and mother. And losing ourselves into that connection until we merge as ONE. Yes, breastfeeding a child would certainly create this merging and connection. Thank you for sharing such intimacy.
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Lilly Says:
11 February 2009 at 11:30 pm.
Well Robin, what extremes you move in in the blog world, pink colanders stuffed with flowers now this. You make it so hard!! First, I know you don’t want me to say it but those were really, really beautiful images of flowers and insects Robin. I love flowers and always have to have fresh flowers nearby no matter where I happen to be. The music was sensational too. I have experienced many intimate moments with both.
Now, on with the real task at hand. Intimacy to me is an attitude. It’s when hearts are open and caressed and souls are exposed and touched to the point the lines of separation blur.
I have felt that most recently in the grief expressed by all Australians to our terrible bushfires. The written word does it for me often as well. Mmm could be why I like reading your posts so much.
Oh and Robin honey, Soul Merlin left you a message on my blog bless him. I love that man and he needs us girl! By the way you tall brunette, I am a tall blonde, 5 ft 9″. Its just my daughter who is wee. She had a grandmother (fathers side who was 4ft 10″). Thanks always for your comments on my blog, I always laugh reading them. And as for that pink colander, I am so trying that new look! And just so you know I never feel any intimacy with Magpies.
PS I am going to have strange dreams about the skunk and pussy cat now that Michelle mentioned. There is a whole world out there that I know nothing about clearly.
Robin Replies
My Dear Lilly Lilly Lilly, I am still laughing. Over you, over henry, over the pink colander, and definitely Michelle’s romantic skunk and pussy cat. They call it “Scat Love”. Oh dear, I best behave. Michelle will have us both rolling on the floor. (Thank you Michelle. You are GREAT!). And I read henry’s delightful message and thought, what a big heart he has. —I really like your lines: “Intimacy to me is… …when hearts are open and caressed and souls are exposed and touched to the point the lines of separation blur.” This is one of the themes I’ve seen expressed here today. Like I was telling KitMama, where we merge with other and until we realize there is no other, we are all human, plant, rock, Universe…ONE. Yes, often in times of great crisis people let go their boundaries and empathize with fire, tornado or tsunami victims and there is a great merging of spirit and love. We forget ourselves and become merged with others in our desire to help and comfort. I think that is why helping others at any time of our lives is so healing. —I am glad you mentioned the flowers. I am the same. I LOVE flowers and just the fact that they grow in colors makes me realize that anything in possible. For something to sprout from the brown earth and be bright red or orange or purple never ceases to amaze me. Flowers uplift and inspire us to greatness. —Aaah so we are both 5′ 9″ers. I love it. Thank you my wonderful intelligent friend. I best leave you now as I hear the magpies calling you. LOL!!!
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Robb Says:
11 February 2009 at 11:34 pm.
Kia ora Robin,
A little over 10 years ago I was feeling very stressed out at work, was struggling to communicate to my wife and son, I felt disconnected. So I packed my gear and headed up into the mountains, which I was only discovering at that time. I struggled 3 hours climbing through the forest, feeling unfit and weary with my heavy load on the steep and unrelenting terrain, and when I arrived on the open tussock tops, clagged in and windy, I just cried at feeling so lonely and so desperate. I pitched my tent in a storm out of the exposed wind and slept. I awoke at dawn, the storm still all about, and in the grey mist of a new day trudged on another 4 hours to a hut high on the ranges. Wet, tired, and cold I simply crawled into my sleeping bag and fell asleep again, the rain beating on the tin roof, the wind howling outside. I woke to complete silence, got up and opened the hut door and gasped at the beauty before me. Not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, the distant peaks pulsating in the sunlight, the river clearly muttering in my ears a thousand feet below. It was magic and I was content to stay when a voice sounded in my head and said, “move on, there is more for you to see this day”. And I packed up and left and went down through the forest, each breeze through the beech forest caressing me, each leaf shimmering and dancing in the sunlight. A two hour walk seemed liked a few seconds. I reached the river and sat on a fallen log drinking the pure mountain water, just being part of the moment in this river valley, and eventually the voice told me to move on down the river. I came across a terrace up above the river and with views of the mountains above and without hesitation pitched my tent. I believe I stood in almost the same spot the rest of that afternoon, dancing and swaying with the gentle wind, hearing each nuance of the river as it rolled by my spot, feeling part of the sunlight which washed the peaks above, first golden, then purple and majestic as the sun moved over me. I do not recall eating or drinking or doing anything but letting this Flow caress me. I felt healed and tears of joy just came and came. The next morning the storm had returned but my soul was renewed. It was the most Intimate Moment I ever experienced with Nature. She has been with me ever since.
Aroha,
Robb
Robin Replies
Dear Robb, my wild brother, this is such a complete and sacred sharing that I initially didn’t want to even touch it. You have said it all here, humbly and honestly. There is so little that I can add to this precious outpouring of your heart and soul. But at the same time it doesn’t feel right to not honor such a sharing. —Other than FEELING everything you wrote here as if it were ME experiencing this, I had few thoughts while reading (mostly I FELT). It was a bit like eddie’s comment on this page. I simply became your experience. I guess because I know it. You were writing about my life as well. I know you understand that. I think you would also relate to eddie’s comment. There is a beautiful surrender that took place in this experience of yours, a purging, a stripping of all that is not needed, down the bare bones of your existence. In the rainforest I grew to hunger for such experiences. I no longer ran from them but, like you, I embraced them and was cleaned. It really is a cleansing, isn’t it, Robb? A cleaning out of the heart and spirit and soul. Down to the bare essence of who we are, of all that is. Nature has a way of doing that if we allow it, sometimes she even catches us unprepared and does it anyway. Dear Robb, this is a sharing that MUST go on your blog and your book one day, when you are ready. Come back here and copy your comment and past it into your word processor and save it in your BOOK folder. Okay? Thank you for loving the land Robb, as you know, it will love you back a thousand times over. She is just waiting to heal us, love us, and become us. Again, we merge with her and become ONE. Thank you for such an honest and cherished sharing.
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Nicole Says:
11 February 2009 at 11:50 pm.
Once, I awoke from a dream, but had not yet opened my eyes. I had just followed wakeful consciousness through until I was behind my eyes. What I first became aware of was splashes of color playing over my eyelids (like a visual slideshow! ) and a silence. Intrigued, I opened my eyes and I could see into the other room, which was bathed in a glorious golden hue (from the rising sun). It wasn’t rays of sunlight, the entire room was alight. I had never before seen such a color. I was in awe and I watched until that particular hue faded. While I was in that moment, that is intimacy.
Once, when I was just a child. I visited a small town that was nestled in the mountains. Across from where I was staying, was a large field with a gazebo in the middle. One night, I lay down on my back in the grass and looked up at the sky. As there was no light pollution, I could see an incalculable amount of stars. And stretching across that depth was a streak of barely substantial white, the milky way. Before that moment, I had never before seen it. I was humbled and awed by the sight. In that moment, is intimacy.
Robin Replies
Ooooh dear Nicole, this is so exquisitely sweet, like a piercing of the heart. I felt hushed inside by it. I think I held my breath reading it. And at the end I had tears in my eyes and let out a big sigh. So beautiful. I was intrigued by your seeing of the light. I had that once in high school, right out of the blue, while walking down the corridor to my next class, surrounded by noisy kids and I saw light like that. It stopped me in my tracks. I never forgot it. I am blown away that had this experience. It brought mine more to the fore of my consciousness. Thank you for that. At that age I knew there was no one who would understand what I’d experienced, no one I knew. —Your other childhood connection to the milky way is so powerfully poignant. It is what brought tears to my eyes. The bonds that children have with the Universe are so beyond words and so often overlooked by adults, but my word they are usually not forgotten. I could actually feel myself laying out in our back field as a kid doing the same thing. So vast, so infinite and so in love with the unknown mystery of it all. Thank you Nicole….
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starflight/marcel lemieux Says:
12 February 2009 at 12:05 am.
Intimacy is like a reckoning of what love and energy feel like…its all around us…sometimes its so intense you are like in a vibrational state..and you climb in your heart and mind….its just wonderful state of mind..and you so much want to share it…while many will welcome the story, few will really comprehend ..but that’s OK…life is life…everything has a time for its happenings.
Robin Replies
Dear Starflight, how wonderful to see you here! I am happy! I understand this vibrational state. I was just talking to my sweetheart about it the other day. I experience it is so many ways and in so many things that I do…I just experience it every single day and could not live without it now. For example: it is how I “hear/feel” music and yet cannot read ANY music, but I play it nonetheless. We are all energy merging and mixing with everything that IS, and are really all ONE. It’s just how aware (or not) we are of this. Regardless, I think it is something that most people feel in their own way whether it’s through nature, their kids, their loved one, including their animal friends, gardening…so many ways. And yes, I like what you wrote here about: “….everything has a time for its happenings.” I am learning how true this is. It’s a bit like Liara says in her comment on this page: “This kind of intimacy is a truth that is only ever felt when a being is ready.” I do not believe in a spiritual hierarchy at all. I do however believe that we each walk unique paths that take us on an intrinsic journey that gathers up all the information, experiences and learning that WE need to become who we already are. Thank you my friend. Have enjoyed your photos and sharings.
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Walter Says:
12 February 2009 at 12:32 am.
I love your music, my mind is still searching for what composer you remind me of, not quite Bach, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXSJf-1EzNU&feature=related or Schubert http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o9Ak7Tk9B3s&feature=related Chopin and Liszt seem too hyper. Mozart is a big showoff, Beethoven is too well regimented, yet his Fur elise has almost the same haunting qualities. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQTTFUtMSvQ&feature=related. I better quit, I’ve talked too much, and not said a thing. I will try my luck later.
Robin Replies
Oh dear Walter, never think you’ve talked to much or that you’ve not said a thing, not with me anyway. I am the Lady of Verbose Lake. Lol! I thank you from my heart that my music would bring to mind such composers as you’ve mentioned here. I am going to go listen to them all. I am now very curious. Thank you for taking the time to share these links Walter. Thank you just for sharing.
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Márcia Cobar Says:
12 February 2009 at 5:18 am.
My moment of intimacy with God.
I forgot my window opened last night. I could feel a soft wind blowing while I was sleeping. The curtains seemed to enjoy that fresh sensation of new possibilities brought by the uncommon agitation of the outside world.
Early in the morning, the light that would be usually locked outside, entered my room. Slowly unfolding the corners of the furniture, the light crept through my bed and reached my face. I felt the warmth of the sun rays touch my skin, but instead of getting up, I remained quietly wrapped on comfortable bed sheets, smelling the essence of jasmine and rosemary. I looked to the curtains dancing gracefully with the wind touching their contours, as if they had a life of their own.
A stream of well being that flowed me. A stream of pure positive energy and gratitude. I could feel God kissing me on the face through the sun rays that invaded my room this morning. And I felt my heart full of joy and gratefulness for all of the feelings that brought peace and happiness to my life.
I wondered why I didn’t have the window open before…
Robin Replies
Dear Marcia, you are a wordsmith extraordinaire that weaves a sensuous and haunting spell, WOW!! You become the things you write about. You become the experience you write about. No wait, that’s not quite it. Let me try again. You ARE your experiences. The light, the curtains, the breeze, the jasmine, the warmth, the sun… Life. You are so slowed down inside that you are able to be fully in each single moment, each detail. I see this in you over and over. It is even there as you move through your days and are infinitely aware of all the teeny tiny details of Life around you. You have merged with them so completely that you ARE them and they YOU. It is a gift, and one that you share beautifully with the world. I thank you dear heart. And yes…we must leave the windows always open, like our hearts and minds.
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Peter J. Crowley Says:
12 February 2009 at 7:40 am.
Robin,
Not sure whether this fits the intimacy level you seek for this contest, on the surface I am speaking of a women. The Intimacy is the Muse, The Muse is me, The Muse is creating. Intimate without being a lover or a spouse. Intimacy here is creation, creativity, communication.
Complete post with eyes here.
Enjoy pjc
http://www.peterjcrowley.com/blog/2006/11/muse-who-is-muse-what-is-muse.html
“These eyes tell the story and explore the soul of the artist. Her eyes are my eyes, my eyes are hers, speaking volumes to those who listen.
Inspiration and creation, the muse is both, sometimes she is a women, sometimes not. Working with a muse that is a women is a very intimate experience.
Sometimes you know right away that the connection is right, again it is the eyes they speak and dance in a language that only you can hear it is magic! We work, talk, laugh and the time disappears. She is a mirror of my reason for creating, an alphabet for me to comment with, we dance this creative minuet both thinking we are in control both knowing that neither of us is, there is only the moment it is brief, lasting forever.
Peter J. Crowley © 2006
Robin Replies
Hi Dear Peter, I just was at your post earlier this AM and really enjoyed it, both your photo, Tara’s poem and your words. You raise a VERY important point here. That we humans (and I believe many other species) can FEEL intimate with another person (or living being) and it has nothing to do with sexual intimacy. And yet, it can be SUCH a powerful feeling and connection and sharing. I have friends whom I experience this with. It is a VERY exciting experience and one which usually instills great vitality, creativity, hope and love. I am very pleased that you posted this comment. Very important insight. One that my culture often misunderstands.Thank you for sharing.
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Shirley Says:
12 February 2009 at 7:57 am.
First, I wanted to say your music is beutiful. Do you have an album or something? I’m dying for more.
I too have a relationship with nature. I love to wake up at 4:00 AM, make a cup of coffee and sit on my bench. I close my eyes and smell the air. I smell damp, chilly air. I hear birds sing and recall hearing a bird that my great-grandmother called a wooper wheel because that is the sound he makes. I open my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. The sky turns pink and yellow and all of the colors that shout good morning, time to wake up! There’s a dandelion smiling at me. I hear a buzz “Hello, Mr. Bee. Nice to see you.” He sits on that dandelion to begin his day of work. I look to the woods nearby. I see a family of deer mama, papa, and Bambi eating breakfast. I see dew glistening like glitter on the grass. I close my eyes once more. The sent of honeysuckle fills the air and for this moment I feel like I am part of nature, this moment before the rest of the world is awake and responsibilities take over. The sun is finally up, my coffee is finished. I hear the baby cry my intimate moment with nature is broken.
Intimacy isn’t just a conversational thing it’s a spiritual thing. I don’t think I could explain it in a manner that makes any kind of sense other than the paragraph above. It’s something that takes over all of your senses. What do you see? What do you feel? What do you taste? What do you hear? What do you smell?
I think true intimacy craves all of your senses and demands all of your attention.
Robin Replies
Dear dear Shirley, I read this and felt like I saw all the way to the bottom of your soul. I am forever amazed at the depths within you. Getting to know you reminds me a bit of my husband who reveals himself one layer at a time. So I forever feel that I am getting to know him, one layer at a time. It is a comforting feeling. Steadfast and just somehow right. What you have written here dear Shirley is another post or one to save for the book about your life. This is so well written, so potent that I became this intimate morning experience. It truly is a meditation of purest kind. I could smell, see, sense, hear and feel ALL of it. My arms are covered with goosebumps. —And yes, I believe intimacy lived is the greatest spirituality of all. For me it is.
When you wrote: “It’s something that takes over all of your senses. What do you see? What do you feel? What do you taste? What do you hear? What do you smell? I think true intimacy craves all of your senses and demands all of your attention.” You really hit the nail on the head, so to speak. Like I mentioned in response to Liara’s comment. “We merge with Life so completely that we forget ourselves….” Shirley I am blown away. I am honored. I am heartened. I am thrilled by what you shared here. It is intimately and infinitely beautiful. Thank you.
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earthtoholly Says:
12 February 2009 at 1:10 pm.
Hi Robin,
An interesting post and as usual I loved your video and music! It really takes one to another place…
Hmmm, I’ve thought about it and I believe that I share intimacy with something—whether it be nature, a personal story, music, a cause, an idea even—when that “something” brings me to tears or gives me a strong feeling to “act.” I feel an intimacy with nature as I’m always awed by its beauty and workings. I feel an intimacy for animals, dogs in particular, as I feel for all of those without comfortable and safe environments. I feel an intimacy for those in dire situations through no fault of their own. Music that moves me, a cause that I believe shouldn’t have to be a cause at all and ideas that make me hopeful all evoke some level of intimacy.
I guess I kind of equate intimacy with empathy…
Robin Replies
Dear EarthHolly, this is such an interesting response. I read it a couple of times and then it hit me that empathy for me is a merging with other. I just started a video that I will post sometime about empathy. I believe we have to be open (or it helps) to let in what is happening around us, what others are feeling, experiencing, etc. I know from my own humble experience that to be empathic means to merge with all the world. We feel other’s feelings and even invite them to feel ours. We feel THEM…period. And if they are open they feel us. Because I merge so easily with the world around me I often walk around feeling what it’s like to be other people. It is something that I am learning to be more aware of. Your caring and sensitive nature would definitely cause a merging with those around you…and the world. If we believe or even FEEL that we are all one then we can no longer carelessly brush away the homeless woman, the injured dog, Nature, etc. We ARE those things, so we care for and love them. Thank you for this wonderful insight. I’ve grown to see this in you as I get to know you. Beautiful.
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earthmother Says:
12 February 2009 at 7:42 pm.
I was camping in the high desert of Arizona. It was a beautiful, calm night and the moon was full. I was just about to drift off to sleep when I felt something nudge me awake. I opened my eyes and expected to see my friend Brwyn, but she was sleeping soundly about 20 feet away. Sitting right beside me was a mountain lion. I know in a situation like this you’re supposed to remain very still and not make eye contact, but I did just the opposite. I sat up and we looked right at one another. She was so incredibly beautiful. I was just captivated by her beauty. It felt like my heart just expanded and I was so overcome by emotion — joy, love, awe, bliss, grace — there really are no words. That’s just it…there were no words exchanged between the two of us, but oh, the conversation! That was real intimacy.
Robin Replies
Dear EarthMother, What an astonishing experience. My mouth was wide open when you said “mountain lion”. I can hardly believe this. It is truly a one in a million event. I have never heard of such a thing. I mean, I had experiences like this with highly poisonous snakes and wallabies and other creatures in the rainforest but NEVER something that could EAT me, only things that might attack me and I suppose could kill me. You are a remarkable human being. I knew that from the git go, but you just shot through the roof in my eyes. I have never ever heard of such a story. I have faced a lot of deadly creatures but have no idea how I would react with a mountain lion. Probably I would do what you did and remain calm, unless I was being charged. Then I’d raise my pack above my head and wave my arms and shout loud and do all the things one is supposed to do in those situations. Like NEVER run and if you back up don’t even turn your back on a lion, etc. But this is amazing. I want to hear more. Did she finally just get up and walk away? And yes, that is astounding intimacy and communication. I experienced this non-verbal communication, that you speak of, a LOT in the rainforest and still do with creatures in the wild here in New Mexico. What a memorable experience,a life changing experience. I really admire your ability to commune with this cat, to transcend the species difference and communicate on the level of being ONE. I also am SO glad you shared this story. You continue to surprise me all the time. I love it.
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rob Says:
12 February 2009 at 9:30 pm.
Every so often, I love to dive into a space and time without man made art, music, aromatherapy, massage, and rediscover the sensual perfection of nature.
Robin Replies
Heeeey it’s my old buddy Rob. Hi my good friend. Happy to see you here. And I love this new insight you have introduced into this thread. THE SENSUAL PERFECTION OF NATURE. Now, this is something I really understand. Nature when experienced intimately is extremely sensual and passionate. I mean, Nature is that already whether WE experience it or not. I love that about Nature. It’s one the places I feel my most passionate. It’s like Life just courses through my viens and cannot be contained it is so abundant and unbridled. Oh! Thank you, Rob. And thank you for taking the time to share here.
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Lance Says:
13 February 2009 at 3:06 am.
Hi Robin,
A moment where I experienced intimacy – I have one moment that just pops into my head here. It’s from a vacation last summer – on a rafting trip in in the northwest US. While the trip had many different feeling that it evoked – intimacy came for me – at one particular moment each day. It was a moment where I felt completed surrounded and wrapped up in the world’s love. This moment was when everyone began to settle in for the night – and there I would lay – just me and my sleeping bag – on the sand – completely surrounded by nature. And seeing the stars – in such brightness. And hearing the gentle current of the river nearby. And just really feeling the world wrapped around me, in that moment. That quiet moment – the only sound – the gentle current from the river. And then, drifting off to sleep. Only to awaken a couple of hours later – with the moon out now – shining down so bright – and seeing the river – with the moonlight bouncing off her – and again feeling so connected to our earth. In all the quiet moments throughout the night – intimacy shone through – and I felt a belonging, and real connection to this world I live in. Deeper than just superficial connections. More than just the daily rush. Slowing down, and letting the vastness of our universe envelope me – brought warmth deep within my soul…
Robin Replies
Dear Lance, I am so glad you shared this story as it took my back to my days on the San Juan River, rafting down through towering canyon walls that went up hundreds of feet. The cut through the mesas was often ONLY the width of the river, with no banks or places to stop and get out. One night we had wind so severe that we had to weight our tents down because the only place to stop was on solid rock. We could barely fit all three tents on the small cliff edge and mine was the closest to the edge. It dropped down to solid rock and the river. I slept little that night and felt connected to the power of wind, water and rock. As I read this I was reminded of the great intimacy of being on the water, and yes…the stars at night and the moon peaking through the canyon. Your story actually brought back smells and sounds.
I love your words: “…I felt a belonging, and real connection to this world I live in. Deeper than just superficial connections. More than just the daily rush. Slowing down, and letting the vastness of our universe envelope me – brought warmth deep within my soul…”
I am so happy that you had this experience, Lance, and that it affected you, changed you, created a bond you won’t ever forget. I hope that you will have SO many more experiences with the Universe like this one. I really believe it’s who you are, Lance. Thank you my life-filled friend.
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Liara Covert Says:
13 February 2009 at 9:41 pm.
Robin, you reconnect with us through sharing glimpses into your growing intimacy process. Intimacy is an experience that some human beings come to view as cyclical or continuing. If you believe in immortality of the soul and reincarnation, then intimacy relates to an increasingly conscious awareness of life, death and rebirth, much like the process of the phoenix bird that symbolizes resurrection immortality and life after death. Some beings evolve to stop believing in death. They may even embrace intimacy through shattering human myths about existence.
Robin Replies
Aaaah Dear Liara, I loved this comment. You speak my language. Although I became very familiar with death when I went into the rainforest. I stopped running from my fear of death and as I told Carol on this page Death became my guide toward Life. A few years later while still living in the wild and after I’d gone through the Death and Rebirth (that I mentioned in my other comment to you) I experienced a knowing that IS me today.
I once stood alone on top of a rainforest covered hill and looked through an opening in the trees, way out toward the coast. The sea was still churned up from yesterday’s storm and I could hear the waves on the beach far below, two miles away. As I stood there I realized that I no longer believed in death. That I did not have to die anymore. I had crossed a barrier in my growth and ability to see and experience my existence. I knew that I would not reincarnate ever again. That path was over for me. I was done with it. And I knew death was no longer my path, even a death and rebirth, and death rebirth (reincarnation) was no longer my path. So from here on I explore the great unknown. It is vast and infinite joy. I merge with my creator, myself, all that is. At this point I cannot tell you more as I am living the new journey.
Thank you dear wise friend for sharing the possibilities, the realities and giving me the opportunity to share this here.
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Evita Says:
13 February 2009 at 10:05 pm.
Hello Robin!
Wow the slide show of the flowers was so precious. There is so much that speaks to us through the presence of a flower. Through its beauty, its texture, its just being.
For me intimacy with nature is huge as you know. Sadly, I don’t always get an equally highly connected feeling depending on how removed I am where life may tug at my arms in other directions, but gosh when I am I don’t know where nature ends and I begin. I am part of nature’s bounty, I am one of its creations and I share in its richness with all of the other creations.
I have so much enjoyed reading too here the stories of the others and their experiences – wow are some people able to so beautifully express their inner spirits!
Robin Replies
Dear Evita, You are right I do know how intimate you are with Nature. I have seen it your face…as you know. I think that you are not only one of Nature’s creations, but you are Nature itself. I sigh deeply over your line: “…I don’t know where nature ends and I begin.” because I know this reality so well. I use a similar line in my book. I not only lived this reality for years in the wild, but now live it no matter where I am. But I was blessed to have that extended time away from the world, buried in the womb of the Earth (the oldest tropical rainforest on the planet). The world of houses, cars, streets, movies, phones, computers and running water was so far away it might as well have been another planet. I don’t think there is day that goes by that I don’t feel the wild coursing through my blood, my being. Life in the world of man can go fast and be demanding, but you are so open and ripe for Nature. If you can take five minutes a day and stop and do nothing during that five minutes but watch the sunset or sunrise or simply watch the clouds (even through a window in winter) or close your eyes and listen to the wind or birds or stand five minutes on the bare Earth with your bare feet (in the warmer months) or stand two minutes in the rain, you will connect more and more to Earth in the very high way (all the time) that you are so good at and so easily able to do. It also helps if you talk with the Earth, right out loud, even if you can’t feel her, just tell her that. She is alive and will hear you. Life is all around you and will respond. You don’t have to try and meditate or think anything or “do” anything, just “be with” Nature, yourself, Life, the Universe. When I look at you, I hear the Earth calling you as she knows you are SO open, like a child. You are shinned on dear beautiful Evita.
Yes, the comments here have moved me to tears, left me stunned, filled with love, passion, joy, great surging hope, and awed peace. And now yours adds to that list by touching me powerfully in it’s honest earnest way. Such an open heart you ARE.
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eddie Says:
14 February 2009 at 12:28 am.
wow… incredible composition and rendering!
Robin Replies
Oh eddie, you ARE a dear, a three-fer! I just love it and am deeply touched by these words.
Especially from a master like you. I went to your gallery showing at London Photographic and it is stunning. I am so proud of you and happy for you. You have such a unique style that is very much your own. I’ve not seen anything like it elsewhere.
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soulMerlin Says:
14 February 2009 at 10:20 am.
My hamster “Polo” would love it’s whiskers tickled. He would put his hand on my finger to steady himself and wait until I stroked them with my other hand.
henry
Robin Replies
Oh dear dear henry, this is SUCH a teeny tiny profoundly precious intimate moment that I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I could just picture his little hand on your finger and you gently stroking his whiskers. This would make the MOST magical children’s story/book with little water color paintings to go with it. A child would dream great dreams over a story like this. I am touched my friend. Thank you.
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igakely Says:
14 February 2009 at 10:33 am.
I experience intimacy in my relationship with the nature when I open my eyes, my ears…And I see trees, mountains, valleys, colours… Many colours ! I hear the silence or the sound of the wind, the singing of birds And I pray to thanks the Lord who create all this ! This beauty is a luck ! It makes Peace in me !
Robin Replies
Dear “igakely”, This comment is so beautifully you. You know I relate to this so much. To merge with Nature is a vastly intimate experience. Especially when we forget ourselves. Like EVITA said in her comment: “When we don’t know where Earth ends and we begin.” I too thank the creator every day for such exquisite beauty. I know how you feel and I am so happy for you that you have such a whole connection to Nature. As you say it creates much peace in us. Thank you for sharing that love here.
En Français pour vous:
Dear “igakely” Ce commentaire est tellement beau que vous. Vous savez que je suis à ce trait tellement. Pour fusionner avec la nature est une expérience très intime. Surtout quand nous oublions nous-mêmes. EVITA Comme l’a dit dans son commentaire sur cette page: «Quand nous ne savons pas où la terre se termine et nous commençons.” Moi aussi, je remercie le créateur de tous les jours tels beauté. Je sais comment vous vous sentez, et je suis tellement heureux pour vous que vous avez une connexion à l’ensemble de la Nature. Comme vous le dites, il crée beaucoup de paix en nous. Merci pour le partage de l’amour ici.
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Theresa111 Says:
14 February 2009 at 3:30 pm.
Sometimes I believe you visit Heaven and bring it back to us this way. Profoundly beautiful. You have the wisdom of an old soul and the eye of a child.
Robin Replies
What a treat to see you here dear Theresa! When I saw your name I was filled with smiles. And when I read your words tears sprang to my eyes. You give me a beautiful and precious gift today, and I am touched and honored by it. Very much so. I thank you from my heart.
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Em Says:
17 February 2009 at 6:38 pm.
Hey, Rob, have spent the last two days writing a blog post myself and I mention your contest in it so you may get a few “Blank Book Chronicle” devotees entering. Am all writ out AND I just love the idea of an intimacy contest. Love, Em
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Theresa111 Says:
20 February 2009 at 11:36 am.
Robin, It was my pleasure to embrace your work and speak the simple truth. We appreciate what you bring.
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