A Certain Kind of Alone

1 Waiting at Home

Yesterday was a very busy day for me at work. I was on the go from the moment I arrived until the moment I escaped the office doors at five. It was one of those days where I had seventeen things on the go at once, and still had another dozen to complete. There was a constant murmur of voices, the phone was ringing, my inbox was humming and every time I looked up, someone was standing at my desk, needing something else from me. A typical Monday in my working world.

At lunch, while most people had fled for a well-deserved break, I made a sandwich and sat in my cubicle, trying to catch up in the relative quiet. I was succeeding, until a distant memory pricked the back of my mind and before I knew it, I was staring into space, remembering another time. A time when I was young, barely more than a child growing up on my parent’s farm. I was taken back to a place I loved to go to be alone. Under a tree in a field far from the house where I would sit and read or daydream, where a brood of newly-hatched quails discovered me as I discovered them. To a moment of a certain kind of alone that I now cherish.

I have never wanted to be in a time and place so much as I wanted to be back there, protected by my father, loved by my mother, with my whole life ahead of me, marveling at the newness that was as much an everyday thing then as spreadsheets and deadlines are to me now. To be that child, discovering that quail’s eyelids blink up instead of down. Feeling the warm summer breeze on my face and listening to the cries of the doves, settling in for an afternoon nap as the baby quails discovered as much of me as I did of them. I was content with a small smile settled on my lips.

All too soon, my colleagues returned, another assignment landed on my desk and the reverie was broken. The breeze became the air conditioning, the cries of doves transformed into the quiet bell of my email notification, but the images I relived remained in my thoughts as a reminder of that certain kind of alone.

Pretty stuff I’m showing off:

Top: Blueberry – Laced Crop Shirt / Clean / – Maitreya – Pixie by Blueberryxx
Jeans: Vinyl – Oakley Jeans – Light Blue- Lara by Sukoshitosuto
Hair: “”D!va”” Hair “Kelly” (Red amber) by Marisa Kira
Tattoo: [White~Widow] Midnight in Paris – Maitreya Mesh Body by Julie Hastings
Skin: -Glam Affair – Summerv3 – America 02 E by aida Ewing
Body, hands and feet: Maitreya Mesh Body – Lara V1.0 by Onyx LeShelle
Eyes: IKON Promise Eyes – Maldives by Ikon Innovia
Lashes: Mon Cheri *MC* “Falsies” Eyelash by Freya Oliveri

Swing: Soy. Dreamy Hanging Chair by Soyoy (available at Collabor88 August 2015)
Stone wall: Mesh Plants – Full Perm Ruins Wall Piece_3 by Reid Parkin
Plants: Studio Skye Alligator Apple Bush (small leaf) by Alex Bader
Trees: HPMD* Garden Tree05 – white 2A+2B by Sasaya Kayo (recoloured)
Building: junk. the poor gentleman’s club shed. white. by Tab Tatham
Table: junk. recycled road sign table. trespass. by Tab Tatham
Chair: junk. recycled road sign chair. dumping. by Tab Tatham

Pose by the swing

Photo taken using the LumiPro HUD by Stefan Buscaylet

9 thoughts on “A Certain Kind of Alone

  1. Ever Afterr August 19, 2015 / 8:43 am

    Your post is so beautiful and thoughtful, Peep! Your childhood sounds so idyllic and lovely; even though my own was quite different, I was transported by your memory and it’s a lovely thing to imagine on a rather stressful day. Thank you so much for sharing, and a truly gorgeous picture to go with! ♥

  2. caoimhelionheart August 19, 2015 / 1:22 pm

    Another reason, a most important one, that youth is wasted on the young. Love this post ♡

  3. chericolette August 22, 2015 / 9:49 am

    Idyllic childhood. Did you every fall asleep in one place and then wake up in an other and wonder how you got there?

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