Spring!

The sunshine and warmth invited me to write a haiku...

Soak it all in, skin
Warm nectar pulses through veins
Sweetly budding hope

Old Negatives

I've been writing in my journal (which I've, again, been trying to do more frequently) about some old memories that have resurfaced like a surprise attack after fading into the folds of my cortex for a while. And instead of observing more in the world around me like I said I was going to do, I've turned toward my memories, observing the subjects of those dusty old photographs.

The brain is a tricky thing, if you ask me, and sort of warps the picture on the negatives through time. To try and dig back into childhood memories, for example, is like piecing together a quilt of reality, experience, haze, the stories told about the experience, and on...it's not laid plain. I've been thinking on this manipulation the brain performs. Writing about the memories could truly be frustrating, since I'll never be able to remember in accurate, clear detail. Instead of bringing trial, though, it's been fun to re-tell the stories again through another lens (tricks from the brain included) and paint a new emotion or highlight a hiding piece...practice, exciting practice.

I'll try to be more observant still in my daily life around me, but for now it's fun to play with the old negatives in my brain...

Inspiration

I am easily inspired. I get inspired to become a runner, to be a good cook or learn new songs on the guitar. Now it's writing at the forefront. But with all of the aforementioned things, though there are ebbs and flows in my pursuit, they are all recurring.

Instead of waiting for the mood and inspiration to strike, I'm trying to write a little every day. At the moment, the scraps in my journal look like a hodge-podge garbage pile (really), but I've gotta work out the lactic acid, so to speak...so this is me feeling sore for a while. I'm also trying to keep the inspiration alive yet even-keeled (unlike the night inspiration struck while I was lying in my bed not sleeping, when I was dragged out of bed by creative force, nose-dived into a bin of old textbooks searching for my Imaginitive Writing book that I kept from Di Francis' class, and soaked it in like a pancake drinking syrup). In giving a few minutes each day to writing, I also am trying to devote a little time to reading material that will give me a boost of motivation. Today it was a snipet of Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott.


"Writing taught my father to pay attention; my father in turn taught other people to pay attention and then to write down their thoughts and observations. One of the gifts of being a writer is that it gives you an excuse to do things, to go places and explore. Another is that writing motivates you to look closely at life, at life as it lurches by and tramps around."


As a person who works with people most of the time and works independently some of the time, I know how to interact with people and to interact alone with my thoughts. As I was walking home this evening, I was realizing how little I observe throughout a day. So here's to a new challenge which will hopefully lead to fodder for the journal and eventually an inspired thought: paying attention. And here's to staying in the "flow"...

I will try to post some observations in the coming weeks... :)  What are some things you are observing around you?

The image

Why is it that I get stumped at the "About Me" every time? I know me, and I love words, so it shouldn't be hard to fill in a few short sentences about myself, about what I like, the "why" of a new blog.

I could ramble, I could say what I'm thinking, I could spew it all out and give the accurate picture of me. *grimace* Yet, I prefer to project the image-the smoky around the edges, photoshop the blemishes-image.

I have always desired to be a writer. A good writer. I want the words to come out in champagne poetry with the first pour. But this is not the truth. I have realized that good artists can not necessarily sketch anything they see without erasing, but instead they love to draw and give time to their craft until they begin to master it.

So this is what I am willing to do: put time into the craft of writing, to practice, to hone my skill, to present truth, to play and imagine, to fill pages upon pages to find a jewel of a thought. I don't want to wait till the words formulate just perfectly in my mind to create the "image"...the "look". Instead, I will get it out of my head, write it out with as many words as are needed, re-arrange it, pile more on top, scribble some out ...and write. Because I love writing. And someday I may become good at it.