Face in the Water by Carla Blaschka

 

Genesis 1, Verse 1: "And the spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters."

I wandered down the staircase of the palace as did Byron and Shelley, and like them I found the secret entrance into the Palazzo where the nightly debauches are still being carried on in the mirrored halls, and tapestried pavilions. As I moved down the halls I could hear stray comments from the side rooms as I peaked in.

"My lovely creature, you should play with more spirit." He repositioned her hands and I went on my way. I heard a harpsichord. What a lovely tune! It made my heart glad. I drifted along, on an exhale in search of life, of a connection, amid this cold dry marble. All of the city was open to me, and I was profoundly alone.

But let us begin once more, as my mother said when she was teaching us the secrets of our clan. I was a Botwobble. Botwobbles are small, balloonlike animals that surface in bathtubs. They are cheerful, winsome creatures, as playful as otters, delighting small children whose parents would never have been able to get their progeny into a tub were it not for the prospect of playing with these good-natured water babies.

That was our gift. The way we survived so we could serve a higher purpose. We give you life, we give you the very oxygen you breathe in every bubble you see. We are there, creating life with our own bodies, and every cell in our body is connected to every other Botwobble on each. It was in learning to be an individual that is the secret our parents teach us. How to be apart from the whole and not fear it.

I was scared being alone. How did humans stand it? In great big sacs that could not meld into one and sometimes didn't touch each other for days on end, at least that was what my mother told me, but I couldn't imagine that could be true, surely they would die if that were true.

Our purpose, given to us by the creator of all things in the beginning, was to breathe life into the world. Parents trained us in bubble baths and as giggling children sculpted white foamy hats and long drippy mustaches we learned to breathe until we could breathe the oxygen out of every drop of water, anywhere, that dripped, splashed and broke. Its body broken for you, so that you may live and have air to breathe.

---by Carla Blaschka, 1/7/2012

     Written alongside PurpleMark Wirth and Jennifer Reed Schonberger at Richard Hugo House

 
 
 

Purple Mark's Prompts:                                                                         

1. "I've walked down the staircase of the palace as did Byron and Shelley, and like them I found the secret entrance into the Palazzo Scarlotti where the nightly debauches are still being carried on by the sons of Fottia, in the mirrored halls, in the tapestried pavilions. All of the city was open to me, and I was profoundly alone." Samuel R. Delany. Driftglass. (Signet Books, 1971). page 196.
2. "Botwobbles were small, balloonlike animals that surfaced in bathtubs. They were cheerful, winsome creatures, as playful as otters, delighting small children whose parents would never have been able to get their progeny into a tub were it not for the prospect of playing with these good-natured water babies." William Browning Spencer. Zod Wallop. (Borealis/White Wolf Publishing, 1995). page 122.
3. "'My lovely creature, you should play with more spirit.' He repositioned her hands and mallets over the strings of the harpsichord, bent over, kissed her. 'Let us begin once more.'" Allen Kurzweil. A Case Of Curiosities. (Ballantine Books, 1992). page 109.