the storms that shine

A commercial for a red scarf reminds me of the girl in the red dress from the movie Schindler's List. Sometimes I see a different girl, a woman grow but a girl, confused, as we all are at times. A red scarf, a red hat, black trench coat, dark eyes, dark hair. Maybe everything is black and white, except for the red scarf and hat, with the same significance of the girl in the red dress, in a different context.
I love red nail polish. I love all the shades of red for fingernails. I dated a male once who wouldn't let me wear red nail polish; he claimed you couldn't trust a woman with red fingernails.
Maybe you can't. I don't think the red fingernails is the indicator, though. Not the real indicator, at least.
When there are tornadoes, there is pink in the sky. Pink is like a red that has been faded with a white wash. Tom Sawyer... white washed fence. Tricks.
Fall weather is blustery, it blows you indoors and when outdoors, whips your hair, whips your piercings, gusts and billows, and draws you in so deep. It draws me in. I don't know if I can talk about the storms I've weathered; I'm often not sure they are through. Life is one large storm, with multiple eyes, and sometimes we just fall in the middle of one of those eyes.
I've been to Iraq, I've been married, I've had a child... I've lost weight, I've gained weight, I've had bad hair cuts, I've had good... I've had religion, I've had faith, I've had spirituality...
I'm just not sure anymore. I'm peaceful about the uncertainty, though.
I've posted up in an eye.