turquoise - the abcedaria of a writer

Turquoise - just the word. Just the word brings up so much in my mind. I could stay with that word for five hundred pages. Following turquoise paths through history. From China to Tibet to the southwest of the Americas. Down turquoise waterways through canyons or out to the brilliant turquoise of the Caribbean. I could load my neck and wrist and waist and ankles with turquoise and silver. I could dream in turquoise and drink turquoise and sweat tiny drops of turquoise.

I am a horsewoman in ancient Persia. I consult my turquoise for it will tell me if my life is in danger.

I am a healer in what is now New Mexico and I carry a chunk of turquoise in my medicine bundle.

I wear my family's fortune around my neck in the mountains of Tibet, twisted cords of carnelian and turquoise shine against my skin.

I am an Egyptian queen and know that my spiritual power is protected by turquoise.

To follow the path of turquoise would take me to many places around the world - it would introduce me to story after story after story.
And what is it to me as a writer? It represents the mysterious other than causes me to want to write in the first place. It symbolizes the richness in stories, of lore, of magic, of how if we see a strange colour gleaming in a landscape of grey stone - a vein of preciousness - we can carefully dig around it - loosen it from its prison of stone and release it. We can find those stories and excavate them with some care and reverence and then place them in settings that show off their brilliance, their richness, their complicated and subtle worth.
We can  place ourselves in such a way that we resonate with the vibrations of stories - the ones that are so humbly placed but true and good. Turquoise is not strong like a diamond or a ruby - it needs a delicate hand to bring it to light. Just like those good stories.