I honestly believe that if more people picked up a pen (or a paintbrush, a few crayons, a needle and thread or an extra can of tuna) there'd be no room in one's nervous fingers to pick up a handgun. Creative endeavors are therapeutic wonders that I wish everyone could enjoy. But I, like others, sometimes find myself at a loss for words and with a pound less of energy to "create" anything.
There are two times in the year when I promise to make amends of not creating enough: the "New Year" in January (or, depending on the culture, any other month deemed to be the beginning) and the "REAL" New Year's Day for everyone - their BIRTHDAY! Mine begins mid July and to mark this occasion I sometimes write a poem. In 2005, I wrote the following piece questioning my lack of writing and the hope that my new journal would hold a plethora of pleasurable word excursions (just so you know, out of 200 journal pages, only six were punished with my ramblings):
There are two times in the year when I promise to make amends of not creating enough: the "New Year" in January (or, depending on the culture, any other month deemed to be the beginning) and the "REAL" New Year's Day for everyone - their BIRTHDAY! Mine begins mid July and to mark this occasion I sometimes write a poem. In 2005, I wrote the following piece questioning my lack of writing and the hope that my new journal would hold a plethora of pleasurable word excursions (just so you know, out of 200 journal pages, only six were punished with my ramblings):
What happened during those years
When I failed to pick up a pen?
No words were painstakingly written
No parchment was my friend
No hushed secrets did I whisper
No fighting thoughts did I think
Mere sentences were not treasured
No darkened wells lost their ink
Those years are now buried
Scattered deep along a past stroll
My memory fails to remember
Those that are now way too old
But another year is upon me
What new things will it birth?
My journal, alone, will hold them true
Loved and pregnant with their worth.
Copyright - KaVA, Ink - 2005/2009
When I failed to pick up a pen?
No words were painstakingly written
No parchment was my friend
No hushed secrets did I whisper
No fighting thoughts did I think
Mere sentences were not treasured
No darkened wells lost their ink
Those years are now buried
Scattered deep along a past stroll
My memory fails to remember
Those that are now way too old
But another year is upon me
What new things will it birth?
My journal, alone, will hold them true
Loved and pregnant with their worth.
Copyright - KaVA, Ink - 2005/2009
When I first read this post my mind somehow or other translated extra can of tuna to extra can of spray paint, and I thought you were endorsing condoning graffiti. I read it a second time and realized I was idiot, but then I began to think about it, and maybe graffiti isn't all that bad if it is keeping guns out of the kids' hands. Sometimes it's all a matter of perspective.
ReplyDeleteHey Hava, thanks for stopping by my blog. I'm so glad to find another artist/designer/writer etc. Can't waitt o read more of your work. And don't worry about not writing more in the past. The memories and experiences always stay with you ready to be recalled when the time comes.
ReplyDeleteHi there Alissa,
ReplyDeleteI'd never condone graffiti for it sometimes leads to kids picking up and using a gun on those who "disrespected" their tag, etc ... so I'm glad you reread it ... and I do agree with your point about perspective ... thank you!
Hey Cheryl,
Some memories and experiences I'd like to forget ... but on a lighter note, I concur that it's great to find another multi-faceted artistic type ... thanks for stopping by!
OMG, another one who starts journals... If I had a dollar for every journal I've started over the years, I'd be rich! Your poem is beautiful! It holds all the promise, the hopes, the dreams we feel when we create with our pen [and all those other instruments you mentioned] -- but somehow doubt creeps in -- that horrible, old naysayer, that unwelcome shadowy companion of our Muse -- and just like that we put the journal away, we quit being creative. Don't let it stop you! Don't fall for those seductive little nuggets of negativity. Don't put the journal away. Keep writing. Keep posting for us.
ReplyDeleteKava!! I received the Vespa Blogger Friendship Award and am sending one to you, too!!! Check my blog here:
ReplyDeletehttp://sunflowerranch.blogspot.com/2009/05/thank-you-very-much-mystic-dave-at.html
for details and what to do next.
You're a great blogger and I am very happy to share this award with you! Enjoy!! :)