Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - April 28, 2009

April 28, 2009
Watching the magic of sunset, so poignant and beautiful yet so fleeting, always makes me feel…

awed. The beauty painted there in the great canvas for all to see, if they would only take a moment to watch it, lifts me, draws me in to its colors.
Sometimes I feel a great sense of satisfaction. Another day in which I have managed to accomplish something, however small.
Sometimes I feel a sense of sadness, melancholy. Another day that is gone, never to return, never to relive, except in memories and dreams.
Sometimes I feel a sense of excitement. What waits for me tonight, in that glorious star filled sky? Romance, love, peace, fun, music.
But I am always awed and astounded that the same colors can create such a myriad of designs in the evening sky. I always say thank you when I see a pink cloud. I know it was put there for me.

Sunsets are more beautiful and mysterious than any other time of day. The speed at which they sink. Ahh, to move that gracefully and quickly. The power to inspire so many.

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Sunday, April 26, 2009

Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - April 26, 2009

April 26, 2009 -Determination even in the face of failure can keep us going and in the process, the lift we get from moving can be exhilarating. Kids often have stubborn determination. We are all still kids. Can you access your kid-like determination and direct it toward forward propulsion?

It's that kid like mind and mentality that keeps you going. Don't think about what you have to do, or want to do, or need to do. Just do it and put yourself into it. And why not? Fear. Children know no fear. Why? They aren't in to consequences and haven't learned the connection of cause and effect.
We can all go with the flow on the cause side, follow it's river to where it leads us, but it's the effect we fear. Shame, scorn, failure, ridicule. Children don't even know these words, so to be good adults with drive and determination, to make our lives something to be cherished, we need to forget these words.
Hubby made a comment the other night - he is in awe that I am attempting to write a book, that I had that much confidence. I sat silently in shock. Am I odd? I didn't even think I COULDN'T do it. The thought never occured at all. I really was just waiting for everything to gel together and figuring out where to start. Why wouldn't I be able to do it if I felt the need to do so?
And I think about my other dreams. Big ones. Teaching scuba. Having our own resort. I don't think of those as unattainable dreams, although I do struggle with time. Having enough to do all I want and need to do.
I came home the other day after work an told him I wanted a Corvette. I'm in the mood for something fast. It was his turn to be shocked. He listed a dozen reasons why I shouldn't have one. They were all trivial and I really don't see any of them as a reason to not do what I want to do. I still feel I will eventually get one, someday.
I also do a lot of things that I don't know why I do them. National Board. What the hell was that? I don't know why I attempted it; I just thought it might be a challenge. It was like a mountain to climb. To see if I could. Kind of like "Why not?"

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Thursday, April 23, 2009

What Is This?

In the last week, I have felt an enormous amount of peace and happiness. Despite recent tragic events of friends and aquaintances, which pained my heart and still do, my own personal life has had a flow and ease that I am not quite used to.

The general sense of well being and floating is a nice place to be. I feel loved and in love. I feel competent and calm. I feel appreciated - that's a weird one - for things I do. And have been allowed to be my own person - althought accepted might be too strong of a word.

I believe that this feeling might have been going on even longer than the last week, although it has only been the topic of my mind thoughts for the last couple of days and am sure the last week holds true.

I feel, nicer. Kinder. Like I care more about others, and I wonder if this peace comes from that. I know you get back more than you give and I have always been a giver, not afraid of rebuff. But this seems bigger than the everyday stuff. Stronger and deeper. Wider? I am thankful, regardless of the reasons for the cause. Because I value peace. It is third on my list, after honesty and love.

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Now I am going to go knock on wood.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Why Do I Keep Coming Here?

It's a break. A change. And I have found I can blog in relative anonimity. No one else comes here. Just me. It's a peaceful place where I can be me, all of me.

It's a chance to try something different, look at things differently, stretch my mind to a variety of places. Be a different me.

So what's on the menu today? Let's look.

Creativity Portal 365 Picture Prompts - April 19, 2009 - Look for the hidden beauty even in the gratings of a sewer. (The picture shows rainbow bubbles in a grungy sewer grate.)

Beauty does hide sometimes. And can appear in the strangest places.
Some of the most beautiful things I know -

that small space where the ocean and the sand meet, with my feet standing in the surge, feeling the washing of water and smooth sand swirl around them, burying them, as if trying to plant them there forever

that smooth, soft, central spot on my husband's back, where the muscles all roll into a dip and the curves feel delicious

stepping out after a storm to see the clarity of color and wet drops on the living green. How is it that the world seems clearer and brighter and more vibrant after a rain? Are WE like that too?

light sparkling off jewels, glittering, radiant, knowing it didn't start out that way

that gorgeous color between blue and purple that hangs in the sky at sunset, streaked with glowing apricot, highlights of pink edging the clouds

the purity and simplicity of white gathered tulle, cloudlike and mysterious, innocent but daring you to peek

plaid - the formal explosion of color in comforting geometric lines and shapes, rests and draws pulling you through the pattern, leading, intricate, complex but soothing with the warmth of home

a curled lock of honey brown hair free falling over a shoulder into the air, free to blow or just simply hang

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Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Where Am I?

Leave me alone. I'm writing.

In the groove, the zone. Going with the flow and the words just fall out. Writer's Block?? That would be when I have to stop writing and actually go to work, or eat, or sleep or something equally obnoxious that blocks me from my time writing. ARG! Although . . . the time spent driving has been more enjoyable as I work out plots and reasons and causes.

I'm enjoying the classical music more right now, as words in songs tend to distract me. I like the peace of no words and soft flowing melodies.

I am addicted to my own story. I miss it when I can't spend time with it every day. I'm just trying to hash out the rough draft, get it all spit out. Then I can go back and finesse some areas, add things, and fix my stupid inability to stay correct with tense. Do I really have that much flexibility in me that I think time changes?? Not, so I don't know why I have so much trouble with it.

So anyway, that's where I am. Writing, loving, enjoying every single moment of it.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - April 8, 2009

April 8, 2009
A lonely photographer, in self imposed exile from her homeland, intent on unearthing the secrets hidden amidst the debris of a house built from local limestone by skilled yet barely literate immigrants when the country was new, abandoned now for three generations, stumbles upon...
the picture showed three canning lids. But I am going to abandon the picture and opt for my own story.

All photographers have a lonely part of them. It's what makes them work. It's being on the outside looking in. You have to be alone to really see something. But back to the story---

stumbles upon . . . initials, cut deep into the stone. The kind that were made by what could have only resulted in bleeding hands. The kind that were carved in desperation to leave their mark on this place, in this world. The chore must have taken a painstakingly long time but I wonder if it was done by firelight, or maybe in the scorching heat. Or in a dark, damp place, whether physical or in the mind. A place that had one solitary vision, so focused. Or was it obsession? Or caused by another obsession that couldn't be sated? Could the stone have been the prison of a mind? The excrutiating carving the only exercise of defiance?
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Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - April 7, 2009

April 7, 2009

Silhouetted against a window, a girl appears to be engrossed in the book she is reading. When was the last time you were completely engrossed in a book? What was the title of the book? What was it about the book that captured your imagination? Describe one or more of the characters you encountered in your reading. If you were to write a book yourself, what would you write about?

Wow. This is gonna be long.
Spring break. A couple of weeks ago, when the air was chilled, even though it wasn't supposed to be, I found a way to enjoy the sun and it's warmth through a west facing window. Curled up with my book on the princess bed in the afternoon, reading the third in a series of four, I wanted nothing more than to read myself into oblivion. White sheer curtains surrounded me. The comforter was soft and molded to me. The bed, soft and squishy to perfection. I wanted to read and never stop. Not because I was trying to escape anything in my real life, but because I was being transported to another time in my life. The characters were all people I had known in my life. I felt their pain, their joy; I even knew how they sounded. I knew what would make them smile, what would make them sad, and make them sigh. I was drawn in and saw the movie play behind my quick-reading eyes. Oh sure, they had descriptions, but they were so clear in my mind, I don't know that the words accurately portrayed who they were to me. I read and read and read. And then would make myself pause, because I didn't want it to end. I wanted the show to continue, unending, as I enjoyed it so fully. That fight with myself was lost. I lost to excitement and fullfillment and desire to know how it all turns out, sometimes called curiosity. But the defeat did not feel bad. With it came the joy of knowing.
I won't share the title. It doesn't matter. I say that, but I don't know of any other set of books that have captured me to that extent.
A book about me? I've already started. It's about love and fairy tales, which is the world I live in most often, even in my everyday life. I've never grown up, or out of it. Pity me because of it? You can if you feel the need, but I prefer my world, relish my world, achieve in my world. Most people wouldn't suspect that this is "where I live" from seeing me on the outside. Those closer might have an inkling. And those entrenched in my world know they are characters and the roles they play and seem content to follow those parameters. It's a truly happy place, and while it may sound like a lie, it is so truthful and peaceful. Not to say that there are no climaxes, conflicts, or sorrowful points. Those abound. Those make a story a GOOD story. That's MY story, where I live. And I wouldn't change it even if I could.
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Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - April 1, 2009

April 1, 2009
Prompt - When a topsey turvey day has you all up in the air, remember you could land in OZ!

I am in OZ! I am Glenda and Weena is Elphaba. How did we end up that way?
I guess this is all about changing your reality. I think I am pretty real. I don't like pretenses and I almost always show who I really am. (unless I am hiding something embarassing - although not much embarasses me)
I'm so real and normal - and yet so different. I always feel different from most people. People tell me I am different. Because I seek the truth? Because I don't lie? Because I don't pretend or lead on? Because I enjoy things and don't care if people see me enjoying life? Does that really make me different??? If so, then it's sad.
This is a boring prompt - at least today, for me.