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About Varied / Artist Jarod TanzerMale/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 3 Years
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He stood a few steps before its edge, just where the grass met the first plank. The old bridge that stretched across the creek near his house had been there since before he was born, since his mother was a kid. She repeatedly warned him not to cross it. Everyday after school and during summer, he would dart from his bedroom and down the stairs, through the kitchen, and before he could barrel out banging the screen door, his mother would call out after him.
“Max, stay away from the bridge!”
He would, of course, comply. Begrudgingly. Though as frustrated as he was being restricted to such unsatisfying boundaries, he did not dismiss his mother's concern, due to her continual reminding him of the reason behind it. An incident occurred that, in his father's opinion was not worth the worry, yet had nevertheless ingrained itself on their existence ever since. Not long ago, his father attempted to cross the bridge (the exact reason why having been forgotten) and nearly fell through after one of the weathered boards gave way under his weight. Ever since, his mother forbade him from placing even a toe on the structure. This account did indeed impart a tinge of fear, but the banks on the other side of the creek still captured his curiosity.

He was older now. Ten years old, almost eleven, and he felt his mother's warnings were made mostly of worry, no longer befitting an adventurer of his caliber. That bridge had been the bane of his freedom for far too long and he was no longer content with imaginary scenes of the banks on the other side. Today would be different. Uncharted territory would be explored. Today, his domain would expand.

His mother wasn't even in the kitchen when he dashed through and out the screen door, hoping the bang wouldn't alert her. He ran weightlessly across the yard and under the faded fence that encircled their little patch of home. Max made his way through the meadow near their house, the taller grass swishing under the hurried stomps of his sneakers which kicked up dandelion seeds, sending them dancing airborne. He followed the path in the grass, matted down by previous excursions, until he reached the bridge where he now stood. This was it, he was at the brink of true adventure. Max breathed as he gingerly placed a foot on the first plank. No creaks, no cracks. With a second step, he was no longer on the grass, no longer in the safe support of stalwart soil. He stepped ever so carefully, pushing down on the second plank with his foot while keeping the rest of his weight on the one he was sure about. Max exhaled in relief as the structure stayed strong under his step, as did the next, and the next.

He was just passed half way when he saw the hole. It must have been the very spot through which his father's leg had crashed. Max peered down through the opening, where he saw the rocks and rushing water below, a fall far enough to hurt if one were unlucky enough. Max noted the color of the wood around the hole. A different shade of old gray-brown than the rest. The next few boards bore that same discoloration and Max knew it would be risky to tread upon them. There were too many to skip over in a single step, even two. He would have to jump. There was no way to be certain if the boards beyond the rotten spot were strong enough to withstand the shock of his landing. The only way to stay safe was to turn back.

Max turned and headed back toward the beginning of the bridge. He stopped, looking across the meadow at his house. He turned again and looked at the hole in the wood, then at the far bank upon which he had never stepped foot. His pace quickened as he took a running start. He approached the launch point, and with a mighty leap he sailed over the unstable planks and landed with a thud and a creak. A second of stillness passed and the wood held true. With a wide, gleaming smile, Max tromped over the last few planks and onto the grass of the far bank. Which now, as he looked back across the newly conquered obstacle, didn't seem so far.
1 Small Step For Max, 1 Giant Leap For Adventure
The little victories, when we're little, are big victories. #1 
So there really is no way
To certainty
Other than waiting
In the river of time
Sluggish here
Swiftly sweeping there
There must be another way
Maybe even over
These wanton waters
I just want to look
A glimpse
At what I wonder about
I wander about
Wishing to discover a path
A place
A shortcut over time-space
A free ride
From the boundaries of now
To the banks of what will be.
It's the waiting that kills me.
Worlds once separate now meet
A simple greeting.
Happens just like that.
You see, I've come to realize that I'm an immensely paradoxical individual. I've come to realize that much truth comes in the form of paradoxes. We exist in proverbial gray areas, where one statement or representation of reality can be just as valid as it's opposite. Of course, I can only speak for myself. One inherent example stands out in my consciousness. Personally, I don't devote much of myself at all to religious tenants, but for the sake of discussion, I refer to the "Holy Trinity". In other words, the idea that "God", is a single being that is also represented by three separate figures (The "Father", "Son", and "Holy Ghost"). Again, I'm not one for such a view, but it is the philosophy behind it that I relate to, as I have my own Trinity. The Mind, Body, and Spirit. That is where my faith lies. I believe in the paradox that they are separate entities as well as one essence. Each has their own properties, but must work together.

Without the Body, the mind and spirit have no medium with which to operate. Without the Mind, the spirit is unruly and the body is uncontrolled. Without the Spirit, the mind is grows dull and the body becomes unwilling. Forever connected, like three branches sharing the same trunk, the same roots. What one needs may not always be what another requires, and sometimes, we must nourish one over the others. But there must always be a balance, some sort of equilibrium. If one remains neglected, our balance shifts, and our focus falters, our will diminishes. Tend to them all separately and nurture their connection as one. That is us. We are all one big paradox, and seven billion small ones. Individually All. Indivisibly One.

........But hey, that's just one dude's opinion.
  • Mood: Content
  • Listening to: the blood in my ears
  • Reading: ephemeral sentiments
  • Watching: airspace
  • Playing: with truth


OniOfTheShade's Profile Picture
Jarod Tanzer
Artist | Varied
United States
Works of fiction, fantasy, poetry and philosophy...Stories and dreams alike. All creative writings on this page are owned by Jarod Tanzer © 2015. All Rights Reserved.…

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Tyrison Featured By Owner Jun 11, 2013  Student Writer
Thanks for the fave on "Humanity"! I appreciate it. ^^
OniOfTheShade Featured By Owner Jun 15, 2013   General Artist
my pleasure. ;D
themagpiepoet Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the watch, :+fav:s and comments x
OniOfTheShade Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2013   General Artist
but of course!
ithaswhatitisnt Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for faving my journal!! :hug:
OniOfTheShade Featured By Owner Mar 5, 2013   General Artist
my pleasure!
Legendaryhero64 Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2013  Student General Artist
Thank you very much for the :+fav: fav! :D
OniOfTheShade Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2013   General Artist
hey, sure thing dude!
GiNgErPaNdErZ Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks so much for the fave. :3
OniOfTheShade Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2013   General Artist
sure thing! i loved it
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