May 21, 2009
No-one lives here any more. Only the crows and the big sky keep company with the ghost of the old horse who spent his life here. What are his memories and why does he still remain tied to this spot?
Easy -
Once upon a time there was a fair haired girl who loved him with all her heart. She snuck him sugar cubes after a hard day of plowing. She was the only kindness the old work horse had ever known. When she spoke, it soothed him as it reminded him of nuzzling his mother for milk. Her gentle hands would smooth his rough hair, thick from the wintery frigid cold. During the spring, her small hands, with the coolness of a mountain stream, rubbed his aching chest and leg muscles. Sometimes, when he was lucky, he would feel her frosty breath tickle his nostrils in the early morning of a fall day as she kissed nose.
And then one day, his small bit of joy no longer visited. He would see her from a distance, near the house, with another that reminded him of his master. And then he no longer saw her at all.
He still remembers the kindness, and his heart yearns for it. We all want to remain where we feel special and loved.
Showing posts with label creativity portal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creativity portal. Show all posts
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - May 12, 2009
May 12, 2009
I didn't know what to expect beyond the garden gate, I breathed in deeply the morning fresh air and took in the beauty and stillness of the garden...
As I entered, the gate creaked and I worried it would fall off its hinges. I had to give it a bit of a shove because the ivy was intertwined amidst the paint-chipped wooden slats. I hadn't ventured in here since, well, THAT day.
I had prepared myself for many things during the past month. Weeds, bugs, painful memories, happy rememberances. A bit worried, I bit my lip and stepped past the gate with a purposeful stride and a great bit of anxiety.
It was still there. The glass ball, shining and reflecting like a rainbow. Perfect. I caught my breath, waiting as still as the concrete statue in the corner that guarded the ten inch orb.
Should I walk closer? I debated for a long time. Long enough to watch a bird fly past with a bit of twig in its big. Long enough to hear the frog sing a croak of love. Turning my head slightly, I saw the rose bush in full bloom and daintly picked my way through the ivy-covered stones to drink in the scent.
Closer to the sunlit ball, a hybrid lilac was in full bloom and my senses pulled me to it, the aroma as tantalizing as a stolen kiss.
A big fat bumblebee lazily wandered on the flowers closest to the crystal sphere. I went in for a closer look, to watch her work.
At some point, I realized my small senses journey was nothing but a straight and true path to the perfectly smooth round glass. I looked down and it was a mere foot away.
Just like that, I was gone again.
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
I didn't know what to expect beyond the garden gate, I breathed in deeply the morning fresh air and took in the beauty and stillness of the garden...
As I entered, the gate creaked and I worried it would fall off its hinges. I had to give it a bit of a shove because the ivy was intertwined amidst the paint-chipped wooden slats. I hadn't ventured in here since, well, THAT day.
I had prepared myself for many things during the past month. Weeds, bugs, painful memories, happy rememberances. A bit worried, I bit my lip and stepped past the gate with a purposeful stride and a great bit of anxiety.
It was still there. The glass ball, shining and reflecting like a rainbow. Perfect. I caught my breath, waiting as still as the concrete statue in the corner that guarded the ten inch orb.
Should I walk closer? I debated for a long time. Long enough to watch a bird fly past with a bit of twig in its big. Long enough to hear the frog sing a croak of love. Turning my head slightly, I saw the rose bush in full bloom and daintly picked my way through the ivy-covered stones to drink in the scent.
Closer to the sunlit ball, a hybrid lilac was in full bloom and my senses pulled me to it, the aroma as tantalizing as a stolen kiss.
A big fat bumblebee lazily wandered on the flowers closest to the crystal sphere. I went in for a closer look, to watch her work.
At some point, I realized my small senses journey was nothing but a straight and true path to the perfectly smooth round glass. I looked down and it was a mere foot away.
Just like that, I was gone again.
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - May 7, 2009
May 7, 2009
A quiet country road at the end of a hot summer's day. What would you find if you just kept moving along into the sunset?
Enough hours in a day might be found. To do all you dream of doing, all you need to do, and then still have time to relax and enjoy the stillness and that feeling of peace.
Eternal life. An eternal day. The scenery changes as you move, but the light stays the same, constant.
Exceptional insight to your day's problems and issues in the past.
Extra brain power you didn't know you had.
Everything you thought you lost.
Exquisite sights and views.
Energy exploding.
Endurance.
I wonder why I chose to make it an E word answer?
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
A quiet country road at the end of a hot summer's day. What would you find if you just kept moving along into the sunset?
Enough hours in a day might be found. To do all you dream of doing, all you need to do, and then still have time to relax and enjoy the stillness and that feeling of peace.
Eternal life. An eternal day. The scenery changes as you move, but the light stays the same, constant.
Exceptional insight to your day's problems and issues in the past.
Extra brain power you didn't know you had.
Everything you thought you lost.
Exquisite sights and views.
Energy exploding.
Endurance.
I wonder why I chose to make it an E word answer?
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - May 4, 2009
May 4, 2009 -We are all connected by a never ending thread. When you feel someone tugging do you respond?
We are all connected. It's something bigger than science knows. It's deeper than proven gravitational pull of one human body on another. This is why it hurts when one of us doesn't seem quite human because of their horrific acts.
When someone tugs? You can feel who you are supposed to be closer to. We've all experienced it. That best friend from the moment you met. That immediate attraction to someone that defies any sense of normalcy.
Some call out loud, but some whisper in our minds. Those whispers can linger for years. Maybe it was a small kind word when you needed it the most. You want to go back and thank them. And you know that it was all part of the bigger plan. There were sent at that moment because they felt YOU tugging.
People are different. Some feel a lot of tugs and feel the need to answer them all, no matter how small. Some feel them but choose to ignore most, seeming insignificant. Some only feel a few, but those tugs are more like strong chains that can't be resisted.
Find the other end of your chain if you can. That dark iron heavy burden will have something beautiful at the other end.
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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.
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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.
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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?"
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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?"
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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
Copyright - This post or any parts may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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?
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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?
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - March 31, 2009
March 31, 2009
Like seeds, ideas fall into the soil of the winter of our lives; yet germination is occurring even when all looks lifeless. What ideas have been taking root in your personal winter that are now ready to spring forth? You're invited to create a mandala* (or other visual) that symbolizes the energy of those ideas, and allow that image to fuel you toward bringing your ideas into form. Spring forth!*A mandala is a circle—a circle which you make sacred with your intention as you create inside the circle.
Well geesh - I can't write in a circle here. I'm just gonna write and forget the circle stuff for now.
Maybe I'll just put a bunch of words together that are my ideas.
sleeper, Osage, earthquakes, love, romance, writing, divine, triggers, Irish, reincarnation, seventh son, young adults, do it till you get it right, black girls, buses, running bear, read Jane, it all goes wrong, it comes out right, caves, earth, gemstones, what's the key?, where does it start?, circle, sleeper
I was so looking forward to writing something more meaningful today. Maybe I should. I will.
Like seeds, ideas fall into the soil of the winter of our lives; yet germination is occurring even when all looks lifeless. What ideas have been taking root in your personal winter that are now ready to spring forth? You're invited to create a mandala* (or other visual) that symbolizes the energy of those ideas, and allow that image to fuel you toward bringing your ideas into form. Spring forth!*A mandala is a circle—a circle which you make sacred with your intention as you create inside the circle.
Well geesh - I can't write in a circle here. I'm just gonna write and forget the circle stuff for now.
Maybe I'll just put a bunch of words together that are my ideas.
sleeper, Osage, earthquakes, love, romance, writing, divine, triggers, Irish, reincarnation, seventh son, young adults, do it till you get it right, black girls, buses, running bear, read Jane, it all goes wrong, it comes out right, caves, earth, gemstones, what's the key?, where does it start?, circle, sleeper
I was so looking forward to writing something more meaningful today. Maybe I should. I will.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Creativity Portal 365 Days Photo Response - March 30, 2009
March 30, 2009
This young tom has found a place to park himself, but is it a refuge or is it a dangerous spot?
First I need to describe the picture. It's a yellow cat sitting between two wheels of a tractor trailer.
It's not raining. It's not snowing. There are no "big bad dogs" in the photo chasing him. I don't even see a pound catcher chasing them. He's just sitting patiently, as if saying, "I'm waiting. Take the photo now please so I can move along." So I don't think it is a refuge. There is no threat or fear shown.
I tend to think more that it might be a dangerous spot. I can't tell if the truck is on or off. It's sitting but is it getting ready to move? Does the driver know he is there? Isn't a cat smart enough to move if he hears the engine start?
So let's make it a similie. I'm like the cat sitting between the tires. I'm peaceful, relaxed and content. Yet stagnant. Still. Although I could be observing from a distance. Observing would be good. But I am not a sitter. I am a doer. Observing can be such a great tool and I need to use that more. I'm just so much more inclined to take action, whether it be preventative or trying to accomplish something.
As the cat, could I be in a dangerous spot? No. That's what the observing is for. Watch, listen, see, let it all gel together in my mind and then move when the danger comes close. Danger of getting run over, danger of getting hurt, danger of being too content.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
This young tom has found a place to park himself, but is it a refuge or is it a dangerous spot?
First I need to describe the picture. It's a yellow cat sitting between two wheels of a tractor trailer.
It's not raining. It's not snowing. There are no "big bad dogs" in the photo chasing him. I don't even see a pound catcher chasing them. He's just sitting patiently, as if saying, "I'm waiting. Take the photo now please so I can move along." So I don't think it is a refuge. There is no threat or fear shown.
I tend to think more that it might be a dangerous spot. I can't tell if the truck is on or off. It's sitting but is it getting ready to move? Does the driver know he is there? Isn't a cat smart enough to move if he hears the engine start?
So let's make it a similie. I'm like the cat sitting between the tires. I'm peaceful, relaxed and content. Yet stagnant. Still. Although I could be observing from a distance. Observing would be good. But I am not a sitter. I am a doer. Observing can be such a great tool and I need to use that more. I'm just so much more inclined to take action, whether it be preventative or trying to accomplish something.
As the cat, could I be in a dangerous spot? No. That's what the observing is for. Watch, listen, see, let it all gel together in my mind and then move when the danger comes close. Danger of getting run over, danger of getting hurt, danger of being too content.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Creativity Portal Prompt Generator 3, March 29, 2009
Without my life partner, I'd...
I want to rephrase that. Without my husband I'd . . .
saying die isn't enough. There's so much more to it than that.
Words that come to mind:
wither like a potato left in the dark moldy bin too long
or an apple infested with worms laying on the brown Fall grass in the heat
waste from lack of thought, emotion, or desire
shrink and avoid the cruel world that is so heartless and complacent and too speedy for it's own good
starve (that one is just funny)
inky darkness would seep into my visions and dreams - they would become gray even in the middle where they shine the brightest
crumble like the foundation of an old farm house
sink into the nothingness of darkness
I'd loose
my best friend, my hope, my heart, my mind.
Screams would become so commonplace. I wonder if you can just keep screaming in your mind after the sound no longer comes out?
I'd loose
my laughter and my view on silly things,
my warmth in a winter bed made with flannel sheets and a down comforter,
my dreams, because my future always shows him in it. Standing next to me. Supporting me. Silently hoping that I reach, try and grow.
I'd forget the reason for a sunrise or a new day. I'd forget the reason for beauty in the world. I'd forget there had ever been song. Or light.
Pain would be a like a lecherous high school friend. I would have pain that I couldn't let go because it would be the only thing that I had left. Even though I knew it was bad for me. As comforting as a piece of barb wire. It's the only thing to feel to let me know I was still, unfortunately, alive.
Nightmares - seamless flows of terror, emptiness, and aloneness.
The world would loose me because I had lost him.
Geez - I better not ever have to be without him.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
I want to rephrase that. Without my husband I'd . . .
saying die isn't enough. There's so much more to it than that.
Words that come to mind:
wither like a potato left in the dark moldy bin too long
or an apple infested with worms laying on the brown Fall grass in the heat
waste from lack of thought, emotion, or desire
shrink and avoid the cruel world that is so heartless and complacent and too speedy for it's own good
starve (that one is just funny)
inky darkness would seep into my visions and dreams - they would become gray even in the middle where they shine the brightest
crumble like the foundation of an old farm house
sink into the nothingness of darkness
I'd loose
my best friend, my hope, my heart, my mind.
Screams would become so commonplace. I wonder if you can just keep screaming in your mind after the sound no longer comes out?
I'd loose
my laughter and my view on silly things,
my warmth in a winter bed made with flannel sheets and a down comforter,
my dreams, because my future always shows him in it. Standing next to me. Supporting me. Silently hoping that I reach, try and grow.
I'd forget the reason for a sunrise or a new day. I'd forget the reason for beauty in the world. I'd forget there had ever been song. Or light.
Pain would be a like a lecherous high school friend. I would have pain that I couldn't let go because it would be the only thing that I had left. Even though I knew it was bad for me. As comforting as a piece of barb wire. It's the only thing to feel to let me know I was still, unfortunately, alive.
Nightmares - seamless flows of terror, emptiness, and aloneness.
The world would loose me because I had lost him.
Geez - I better not ever have to be without him.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
Creativity Portal Prompt Generator 2 - March 29, 2009
One thing I want to learn right now is...
I have to limit it to one??? No way.
Welding, stained glass creating, how to get published.
I want to learn about welding because the thought of creating something out of hard metal seems so complex but at the same time so satisfying. It would last a long time. Plus, you can build bigger and really make a statement. Say, "I was here." But the key word is build. Make it grow. Make something beautiful out of something ugly.
Stained glass - what a beautiful idea. Rainbows of color while using the sun's light to make it sparkle. Cutting glass into curved shapes. Glass that is hard to cut, yet done with precision and perfection. Putting the pieces together to make a whole. The fitting. The shaping. The piecing.
I want to be a better writer. I practice with these prompts and story starters. Dig deeper into myself and find reasons why. Search. Find. Share. Spread the love of words. Words that take you to another place. Make a movie in your mind. Make you feel like you are there. Connect. I am happy writing. Plus I love big projects and having a purpose.
Is there more? You bet. Play the drums. Play guitar. Take better pictures. Geology. Gemology. I don't think I will ever loose the desire to learn.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author
I have to limit it to one??? No way.
Welding, stained glass creating, how to get published.
I want to learn about welding because the thought of creating something out of hard metal seems so complex but at the same time so satisfying. It would last a long time. Plus, you can build bigger and really make a statement. Say, "I was here." But the key word is build. Make it grow. Make something beautiful out of something ugly.
Stained glass - what a beautiful idea. Rainbows of color while using the sun's light to make it sparkle. Cutting glass into curved shapes. Glass that is hard to cut, yet done with precision and perfection. Putting the pieces together to make a whole. The fitting. The shaping. The piecing.
I want to be a better writer. I practice with these prompts and story starters. Dig deeper into myself and find reasons why. Search. Find. Share. Spread the love of words. Words that take you to another place. Make a movie in your mind. Make you feel like you are there. Connect. I am happy writing. Plus I love big projects and having a purpose.
Is there more? You bet. Play the drums. Play guitar. Take better pictures. Geology. Gemology. I don't think I will ever loose the desire to learn.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author
Response to Creativity Portal 3/29/2009
March 29, 2009 Like a crystalline butterfly is our spiritual awakening rising?
Why are they asking yes/no questions? How can that inspire? Let's move on and try to get past the yes/no.
Yes. And no. I wouldn't consider myself any type of butterfly. Not social, not fluttering, definitely not crystalline. I'm too strong for that. I am not as fragile as I seem, unless we talk about love. But I keep that fragility deep inside my rough and tumble, humorous exterior. It takes a lot to pain me. But some have a straight avenue. I try to shield those cavities, what I would consider flaws, to mask the harm they can do. I suppose in that way, I am LIKE a butterfly - able to cocoon myself as the necessary time draws near.
Spiritual awakening rising? Hmm. Yes. Cycles of life. Patterns of life. We must remain dormant at times in order to be at peak for rising times. These visions lay in a deep sleep inside of us until we are capable of putting forth the effort and emotion necessary to complete the task. That is why we always can find more strength for those things that are hard to bear. It's always there. We just don't know it's full potential and our souls keep that extra reserve for moments such as those.
In our lives we have countless risings. Tempered by razings. Like the tide, our capacity for change moves in and out of our heart, rises and falls with the seasons, ebbs and flows with the years.
At this moment, I am rising. Biorhythms. The pattern of my life has been such that I will slowly decrease until the end of April and then will return with a fury, much like a spring tornado. It's a magical time, but a time to be planned for. A time when nothing seems impossible. A time to try that which I dare not at other times. For at that time, the world sings to me. I hear every note and rejoice. I see every color and feel it was put there just for me with the sun's ray to make it even more vibrant.
It's coming. I feel it. I need it. I crave it. And when it arrives I will drink in it's sweet taste until I have fulfilled my proverbial cup. And it will sustain me through darker times.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
Why are they asking yes/no questions? How can that inspire? Let's move on and try to get past the yes/no.
Yes. And no. I wouldn't consider myself any type of butterfly. Not social, not fluttering, definitely not crystalline. I'm too strong for that. I am not as fragile as I seem, unless we talk about love. But I keep that fragility deep inside my rough and tumble, humorous exterior. It takes a lot to pain me. But some have a straight avenue. I try to shield those cavities, what I would consider flaws, to mask the harm they can do. I suppose in that way, I am LIKE a butterfly - able to cocoon myself as the necessary time draws near.
Spiritual awakening rising? Hmm. Yes. Cycles of life. Patterns of life. We must remain dormant at times in order to be at peak for rising times. These visions lay in a deep sleep inside of us until we are capable of putting forth the effort and emotion necessary to complete the task. That is why we always can find more strength for those things that are hard to bear. It's always there. We just don't know it's full potential and our souls keep that extra reserve for moments such as those.
In our lives we have countless risings. Tempered by razings. Like the tide, our capacity for change moves in and out of our heart, rises and falls with the seasons, ebbs and flows with the years.
At this moment, I am rising. Biorhythms. The pattern of my life has been such that I will slowly decrease until the end of April and then will return with a fury, much like a spring tornado. It's a magical time, but a time to be planned for. A time when nothing seems impossible. A time to try that which I dare not at other times. For at that time, the world sings to me. I hear every note and rejoice. I see every color and feel it was put there just for me with the sun's ray to make it even more vibrant.
It's coming. I feel it. I need it. I crave it. And when it arrives I will drink in it's sweet taste until I have fulfilled my proverbial cup. And it will sustain me through darker times.
Copyright - This post may not be reproduced or copied in any form without consent of the author.
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