So busy hurrying along,
Simple pleasures lost and gone.
Forgotten toys,
broken and gone.
Same question all along.
Can we play,
and have some fun?
Can we laugh,
Jump and run?
Whimsy competes
with hope and dream,
Pushing us to all that we can be.
Weary and tired,
as life draws us to the bone
leaving us looking for
Relief and joy.
It often amazes me how easy it is to feel that special boost of ego. A small compliment or a happy customer. Today, I received a boost. I have been feeling lately a lot down on myself, my art, my crafts and my writing. Its hard to feel good about stuff when one’s own family doesn’t seem to feel pride with what you have done. Now in the last two days, I have had two amazing compliments. The first was from my twelve year old. I ordered the proofs for my novella, and my children’s book. I gave them to my daughter. Well the other night as I tucked her in (cause yes i will still tuck her in every night so i can get that lovely hug and kiss each night), she told me she had read the children’s book. She said it was kinda good. Which is for her major praise. Then I had a day of good writing, followed by a day of productive crafting.
So today I had a visitor. who provided ego boost number two. I had laid out the pendants I made to try to plan a display. and she saw them. She was so enthralled by them that she kept telling me how beautiful the pendants are. It made me feel so good. I think in general we forget how small compliments and acts of kindness can affect the day of a person. So I think i will try to hand out a piece of ego candy (Compliments that is) every day. I recommend everyone do this.
One astute blog commenter once said that this blog was “the death of art and meaning.” I kind of took that as a compliment. Do you understand the type of power I have to construct a boo…
Source: 20 Reasons Why Donald Trump Should Never Be President
My friend Redbird posted this on Facebook this morning.
“Good morning/afternoon/evening everyone! Keko and the Lost Bananas is now FREE on Kindle until March 8th! Below are the links where you will find it depending on where you live in the world.
So grab yourself a copy and make sure to leave a review on Amazon for me please and thank you!
Have a wonderful day/evening!
http://ow.ly/Z4Kjt — US
http://ow.ly/Z4Lm1 — UK
http://ow.ly/Z4Mis — CA
http://ow.ly/Z4Mqg — AU
http://ow.ly/Z4MzO — DE
http://ow.ly/Z4MHX — FR
http://ow.ly/Z4MQr — ES
http://ow.ly/Z4N3U — IT
http://ow.ly/Z4Nf4 — NL
http://ow.ly/Z4NmY — JP
http://ow.ly/Z4Nv4 — BR
http://ow.ly/Z4NBv — MX
http://ow.ly/Z4NHA — IN”
Go get yourself a copy. It really is a cute story with delightful illustrations. And until the 8th of March it is free! Free is always good!
Due to the having my phone die, I have been using a android emulator to run my apps. So my writing app went from being convenient to being a true pain in the backside. So last night I decided to transfer a few of my Work in progress to the computer as text files to make writing easier. Especially since the Emulator seems to really dislike my notebooks app. It crashes way too often. Well today I was transferring Elizabeth. (I still need to come up with a better name for that one). I checked the word count when i finished pasting it to my office document. It was only 1298. I decided to do a bit more on it. When I set goals for my daily writing, it is usually only 250 words. Well after about an hour of writing, I decided to take a break and do some dishes. So i checked my word count. 2198. I am so happy with that. Yes i realize that is not a huge difference. still it felt like a huge jump to me. So I was telling another writer friend about it.
That conversation led to a discussion about when writing is more difficult. Also about writing poetry and the emotion that goes with. I mentioned that for me winter is easier to write because i am not able to get out and about. And sadness helps the poetry flow. she commented that she had maybe written four poems…ever. I have lost more poems than I have published. I had a book once with around a hundred poems i had written. The chick i was living with at the time stole it, and my son’s baby book. To be honest the poems in the four volumes i have published were only written in the last five years. I have been writing poetry since I was nine years old. Somehow the papers I have written them on have found themselves lost. So even though I have not been published until fairly recent…I have been writing my whole life. I have won some poetry contests, been published in my high school literary magazine, and a few other compilations. I’ve never won any money, and so I never felt like I had met my dreams.
Now i have made money on my writing…( a total of $0.35 lol) I find myself wondering if I really didn’t understand my dreams then. As I have aged, I keep finding that my youthful dreams were ignorant and slightly blind.
This year has been better than last, Emotionally and physically I am in a good place. Still after the hell that was 2015, I find myself in more of a hold than normal. I normally write at least 70 poems in a year and at least a story of some sort. Even if I end up destroying the stories, I do write them. Yet this year has been an inspirational void. I have them…after major life changes. It makes sense if you think about it. How does one appreciate the poetry of life, when the mind is still adjusting to chaos that comes from being truly a hot mess. I still see the poetry, still feel the story. Surrealism clouds a busy mind.
For me March is one I almost always have a distracted mind during. This month is my birthday month. I am not a single bit worried about my age, however that doesn’t mean I don’t contemplate what growing older means. I expected that I would be so much more and yet I am farther than I thought I would be. So many of life’s choices have led me down a path that led me in both dark and light places that i could have never imagined. Today I am forty. I have made choices, both good and bad. In Eleven days, I will be forty and one . It always strikes me as strange. Perhaps that is why March sets me on my ear.
Found on Facebook. All credit to the Buddha Doodles. Original Quote by an amazing Poet – Maya Angelou. ❤
In the heart of the poet,
Each moment in time.
written in verse
both loose and light.
darkness ebbs with the mind,
An overwhelming heart bound tide.
Lyrics touching deep within
singing the song,
of souls adrift
comforting
warping.
setting the mind
free to dream,
free to believe.
Distant memory
of words spoken in rhyme,
Iambic measure, Rhythm and time.
Pushing boundaries
Just to feel alive.
I really have been trying to write lately. I am not one of those who can structure my writing. I can write everyday, and I do. Still this week has been a time of pure distraction. Even down to my writing app not functioning. My mind has been foggy, and I am quite afraid that if the app had worked…well it probably would have been something I deleted a day later. I have resolved to never delete what I write the same day. In some ways it keeps me from getting disgusted with what I have written and deciding it’s garbage…whether it really is or not.
So I have been doing other writing exercises. A journal, a bit of blogging, and still my heart aches. I have several work in progress that feel like I will never finish. It makes my heart ache because I feel like such a failure. In all honesty, I wrote my first novel at ten. However, in frustration and self doubt, I threw it away. I forgot what I wrote. So the uncertainty of that early failure (the trashing of what i wrote is the failure) followed me. I write, I publish. So far only a novella, a children’s book, and four volumes of poetry. I publish because it doesn’t cost anything. Perhaps it is still my self doubt that holds me back. I battle the low self esteem as I have my whole life. I am perhaps never going to see myself as others do. And that is actually Ok. I would love to see even once that which others see in me, but if not, then I will survive. I will continue to write because without it, I am nothing. I will continue to be kind and helpful to others, because it is not in me to be unkind. I will continue to be creative in every way I can find. For the creativity helps me to feel less ugly. Perhaps that is all there is in life. Finding beauty in the ugly of life.
I truly believe that everyone has some font of creativity. Most never see that streak within themselves. For some it comes out in form of fashion, In some it is an eye for color in Decor. Some write, some draw. Every creative act nourishes the soul. So each person needs some way of expressing that. I personally think that those with an uncertainty and self doubt end up expressing more of a creative nature. Which is why much poetry and art has pain and darkness at it’s base. All forms of creative expression are the mind’s way of dealing with extra stress and extra doubt.
Mind you, I am not claiming this is a bad thing. I applaud any way that leads the mind to cope with life. I think that creative expression of pain and doubt lead to much of the beauty in our world. It amazes me how much beauty exists. I am all over the place when it comes to beauty. Enjoying a well written song, a beautiful poem. Smiling over a gorgeous picture, a well done show. Eclectic in my personal decor and jewelry. There are many enjoyments I have in all forms of beauty and creative expression. What is it that you think of creativity? What is your thoughts on Beauty?
Pattimouse 