What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

"Sailing" by Teri Meridian

"Sailing" by Teri Meridian

The waves are long and rolling, perhaps 8 meters apart and 1 meter high. The ocean is deep here, so they flow easily, without cresting or white caps. They are perfect for my Nacra as it is small enough to go over them, rather than the jarring ride of cutting through them with its hulls. The twin hulls are rigged wide, giving me a large stable platform that allows me to take the waves at an angle as I tack on a northerly course. The mainsail is taut in the wind, which I estimate is averaging about 15 knots. The jib is set a bit loose and is luffing slightly after a recent wind shift, but I’m not racing so I let it flutter lightly. I will be tacking in but a minute and will need to adjust it momentarily.

The sky is a brilliant blue, completely cloudless, letting the sun beat ferociously on the stretched canvas deck and its occupants. I’m not sweating in any way as I’m soaked with salt spray, and somewhat chilled by the wind on my wet skin. I almost wish it was warmer, but I know that regardless of how cold I am, my skin is being bombarded with UV rays strong enough to burn me. I’m surprised by the noise, of the sails, the water, and the wind, even though I am out here to find peace and tranquility. It amazes me that I can find the cacophony of sailing to be a form of quiet, almost like white noise.

My companion is clad as I am, in a Nanogunk bikini. Hers is dayglo yellow while mine is fluorescent pink, and though they are of a similar cut, they fit us very differently. Hers accentuates her curves, drawing the eye to full hips and breasts, and long lean legs that seem like they could rival the boat’s mast. Mine reveals a compact, muscular body, covered with a soft, pleasing layer of fat to round off the harder angles. Her hair is a honey blonde that sparkles in the sunshine and has picked up a light salt-water frizz where mine is as black as coal, slick, straight, and without body in a tight pony-tail. We are opposites in many ways, but we are the same in others, most particularly our love for sailing, and of course, for each other.

We seemed to find ourselves on the sea. It is where we come together, in shared purpose, calm and at ease, and where time stops. We seem to always be afloat, braving the winds and currents, and yet, it also seems that we spend just as much time trying to find the time to sail. If we are not on a boat, we are planning our next voyage. We complement each other so very well, giving each other what she needs, without really needing to try. We are content and happy together, knowing that we shall never willingly separate. But we are never more content or happy than when we sit in silence, on a deck, the wind propelling us along, and our hands touching, fingers intertwined, as our eyes meet and our souls soar. We belong here, sailing together.

We never seem to care where we go, for it is not the destination, but the voyage that matters. We have been on organised cruises, casual outings, and even a bit of racing, but none of this is really important to us. What we crave and desire is the time, together, sharing our passion as the shore zips past and the sails flutter above. Sailing alone is fun, but sailing together is indescribably magical. I can’t imagine wanting or attempting to do this with anyone else. We are meant to be here, to share this, and to come as close as two humans can possibly get. I never need to tell her I love her, for the winds and waters do it for me. She knows how I feel because I know she feels the exact same. Looking at each other is like looking into a mirror on our own soul.

Oh, I do tell her I love her, for I must never let her forget or cause her to think I’ve forgotten how important she is to me. But the words seem to take a new meaning when we are snuggled on the deck, in the cabin, or at the wheel. We have more than one boat, for sailing is like making love; sometimes it is silly and playful, sometimes slow and drawn out, and sometimes fast and furious, and to suit these moods we have different vessels. But, we have our favourites, and my catamaran is one of mine. The dual hulls, open deck, and high speeds make for a passionate ride. I smile at my partner as we tack, the sail swings, and the compass shows us settle into a new course. She smiles back and leans over to let her lips brush my cheek in a gentle salty kiss.

If our boats could talk, you would blush at their stories, for what they have seen is best left to the imagination. Their decks are where two lovers can find a closeness that others only dream of and sometimes think is simply a fantasy. We know it is not, for we have found the key to unlock each other’s innermost being as we couple in a manner beyond anything that most have experienced. We have found true happiness, contentment, and love, without boundaries, limits, or restrictions. We have found truth in a lasting connection that defies all expectations. We belong here, on this deck, together in love and happiness. There is nowhere else I would ever want to be and no one else I could ever share this with.

I love you, my darling, always and forever – now reef in the jib for me please, honey.

For Keisha with all my love. Cuba, Dec. 2013.

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