A short while back I talked about my creativity being blocked and trying to overcome this. I’ve not yet overcome my inability to immerse myself in a creative zone but I will share my thoughts and progress. Having spent two months in hospital, and a further month at home, mainly but not exclusively in one room, I have had little chance to get out and about and when I do most visits are for appointments at the hospital. In the past few days I have realised what is perhaps the obvious, the effect of place on my ability to relax, switch off and become entwined in my creative quest. At a basic level, I have had to relocate my bedroom to a lower floor, losing the broad view of the sky and my cosy writing corner. Then there is the effect of being restricted, not going out to walk and explore different places. So I turn to my memories and love of water. Water in all it’s natural forms is inspiring, be it sea, river, waterfall, stream or lake. In pondering this blog I recalled a holiday at Lake Bled, a most magical place in Slovenia. When I visited many years ago I had not started writing but I recall how I felt when I surveyed the view from the hotel balcony on the night of arrival and the many hours enjoyed walking alongside the beautiful lake. Perhaps if I can allow my mind to drift and recapture the essence of the special places I have visited – with a notebook to hand – I will be able to move forward with my creative pursuits. Even on a rainy day, Lake Bled is a magical place.
I am playing around with a blog I wrote a short while back. No-one appears to have seen it so I am changing the title and photo and see if this makes a difference. The text and poem remains unchanged. It would be good to get some feedback and to hear from others their own experiences of what draws people to read their blog.
Prompted by a friend to write a poem on clouds, I reflected on what they mean to me. It’s fascinating how thinking about something like this can evoke memories from the past.
I recall when I was at school we had acres of lush green grass, tiered with slopes that we could roly poly down. The clouds made me think of when I would lay flat on my back on the grass gazing up at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds on a beautiful summer’s day.
I also remember how I enjoyed flying above the clouds for the first time when I was a teenager, looking down on them and seeing fairytale mountains.
The following are the words that have spontaneously come to me.
Stretched out on the emerald pillow
The light sapphire canvas blotched with stately mounds
Wishing I was up amongst the clouds
Gliding serenely o’er the world
Zooming beyond the realms of living land
The magical marshmallow mountains
Bestow a safe haven in my mind
Clouds are forever there, bumbling along
Swept by the whipping winds of fury
Today their blackened stains threaten
As the wands of wetness streak down
A passing theme in our lives
A cloudless sky perfection seems
Yet without clouds, life would pass us by
Thank you for reading. I welcome any comments you may have.
Creativity takes us to a special place – a place where we become lost, engrossed in our chosen path. The stresses of life melt away, solutions surface to be put aside for later. We are blessed with frozen time in which to savour the simple gifts life offers.
I wrote the following poem when I was attending a creative writing course and tasked with eating an orange and then writing about it. I chose to approach the exercise mindfully, which meant that I fully focused on every move. I had ensured that I had peace and would not be disturbed. I feel that mindfulness resulted in far more descriptive vocabulary than I would otherwise have used.
I previously shared this poem on my poetry page unillustrated. Following my post on the use of images in blogs, thanks to another blogger I have now been introduced to Wylio and found the chosen photo which I felt was perfect.
The Orange Globe
Round and dimpled with a fiery hue.
Balancing on the shiny plate, aware of the carefully-placed threatening steely blade.
Light glistening through the window enlarges the pores, breathing life once more.
Almost perfect, it’s marks prove individuality.
Rough, bitter sharp rind tingles.
Soft grating renders the globe slippery, with a creamy and oily texture.
Thumbs pummel, pressing determinedly to squish open, testing strength.
The pithy coat yields yet resists.
Stabbed through the heart, crackling fibres torn.
Rough saw sound dissects, two halves fall apart.
Juicy pearls cradled within are savoured, sucked and dripping.
Shreds of that which remain discarded.
Fleshy nodules erupt in the mouth, flooding with tantalising golden nectar and a bittersweet lick.
Sticky and blessed, all that remains is a sunny mess.
The Elephant and the Monkey
Trunky the elephant
went to the jungle
He lifted his trunk
and made such a bungle
Molly the monkey
came running by
She swung on poor Trunky
and lifted him high
Molly and Trunky
they flew in the air
they had such a scare
I am seriously lacking in images to go with my posts, whether it be photos or artwork. I could hold back on sharing things that I come across but have decided to share them without images and come back later when I have discovered or created the right image. I haven’t yet found my way around free online images and would prefer anyway to create my own when the opportunity arises. So I am hoping people will still want to visit my blog and, when it is more colourful, will be interesting to see what difference this makes to my blog stats. Would welcome comments on your own experience of this.
Going through some of my old notes, I came across a quote which resonated with me at the time, which I now discover is by American Joel A. Barker, Futurist, Author, Lecturer and Film Maker (www.joelbarker.com):
Vision without action is merely a dream
Action without vision just passes the time
Vision with action can change the world
This applies to our own personal worlds. We can have dreams that lead to goals and by taking action we can change our own worlds.
Another quote I have stumbled upon in my files by John Butler Yeats written in a letter in 1909 (answers.google.com/answers/threadview?id=89409)
And happiness … What is it? I say it is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing or that, but simply growth. We are happy when we are growing.
Growing involves learning, increasing our knowledge and having new experiences. Does blogging make you happy? We are developing our writing skills and learning new things from other bloggers, does this lead to personal growth and happiness? Does it help us achieve our goals or does it distract us from them?