BraveWrite, Week 3

September 19th

She fears its gentle hands have found her again. It whispers in her ear all the things she shouldn’t to hear. The truth long gone, her heart long since battered, she welcomes the cold. It hollows her out. Vacant of emotion. It’s too late when she names it. #Depression

 

September 20th

In the state of #jejune, we were all consumed by our fables. We were a unique center whose storms were unlike any other. The Gods aimed for us, small and insignificant though we KNEW different. But then our eyes opened. We wore others’ shoes and heeded our empathy.

 

September 21st

Their trunks, china cabinet, and every nook and cranny served as a #cache for their precious items. The house seemed willing to burst at the seams with their collections. It was a glorified storage unit filled with the sentimental. She worried it would go up in flames

 

September 22nd

The world is full of the #esoteric. It haunts the realms of math and science. It teases everyone. But it belongs to the artists most of all. The ones who draw, paint, compose and write for themselves, hoping some will understand. They bare their hearts for acceptance.

 

September 23rd

Wanna know what I think? she asked all of a sudden.

What? His eyebrows raised above a curious gaze.

I think life is a marinade in which we all #marinate. It’s experiences, people, and choices are all the spices we added, She smiled and nudged him, Don’t you think?

 

September 24th

The clock chimed #twelve in the middle of the night and summoned the witch from her workings. Her feet bounced down the stairs, jostling the book she held in her arms.

Ah, there it is, she said while flipping through the aged pages. Clearing her throat, she began to recite.

 

September 25th

The abyss was #tempting, as always. It called to her in seductive whispers. It threaded its fingers into hers, holding her hand, pulling. Her shoulders drooped in defeat and matched the dark bags under her eyes. The image in the mirror wasn’t her so why continue?

Reading: All I’m Doing Today

Since I’ve finished my book for the moment, I’m taking the day ‘off’, and going to read. I haven’t done much reading and it is definitely essential if you want to write. So… I need to catch up on it.

Honestly, I might take a break or two from reading and knit or draw. Perhaps find an interesting writing prompt and attempt a short story. Who knows?

What I do know is, my book is on pause before I reread it and check the new details/sections/etc that I added. Better to do that when it isn’t so fresh in the mind. (Damn autocorrect in our brains!) Reading someone else’s work should help me get my own story out of my mind for when I need to check it again, too.

The background noise will be rotation of almost pure silence, a black cat frequently meowing, and snoring, dreaming dogs. Perhaps some music at points, too!

That”s all for today! Hope you guys are running towards your goals and achieving them too!

A writer is a reader who is moved to emulation. ~ Saul Bellow

 

A Sad Face

For the past few days, I have been obsessed with drawing a pair of interesting eyes, and the other day I toyed around a bit. I love my eye (minus the eyelashes), and I gave it a home on a female face. Lips, nose, hair, the lot.

Now it isn’t finished. I am probably going to keep playing around with it, maybe add colour. Ultimately I don’t know exactly what its final form will be, but I know I will enjoy getting it there.

A.Sad.Face.jpg

I am sure my proportions are off, but I’m trying. That’s gotta count for something, right?

Along side this, I am trying to figure out a logo for my blog, which I am thinking will include water colours.

Still writing though I need to grow in that arena, somehow. Take a step back from poems, and try a short story? Or something. We’ll see where my mind takes me.

It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default. ~ J. K. Rowling

 

P.S. While I am still reading A Game of Thrones, I have picked up a self-help book (yeah, I know) called The Courage to be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga. Andrew said I needed it, and I guess we’ll see if he’s right.

My Poor Tree

I haven’t drawn in years, if I am honest. I used to love drawing, painting, molding clay. It was an amazing thing to create something from the mind, or mimic an existing object/person. Flaws added depth to it though I struggled with that fact.

Being a perfectionist is not great when you want to be creative, and thus I have been hesitant to do anything artistic for a long time (unless it was instructional). Today I decided to pull out a sketch book and pencils, and make something, anything.

It’s simple, but I drew this evergreen tree. It probably sucks, but I am proud of it, because at least it looks how I wanted it to (sort of).

Pencil.Tree.jpg

Art in all its forms bring a beauty to the world that I enjoy soul deep. It is necessary for any creative soul to find their medium or niche in the world to share their imagination, but it doesn’t hurt to dapple in others at the same time.

I have posted a lot of poems, and will continue to do so, but I am also going to be playing with my drawing pencils. Hopefully I will get some paint and canvas soon to fiddle around there, too.

Sorry for the quality of the picture. Cellphones don’t take the greatest photos so I am hoping I can get my digital camera working. Well, it works, but I don’t have the cable required to transfer photos to the computer just yet. Plus I need an SD card to be able to take more than just a couple photos.

 

Demise

Oh dearest friend of mine,
Use this stick and draw line,
Stand there til the dawn of time.

And when bright light shows its face,
You may then leave this place,
Yet find that all has been erased.

I charge you now, to start again,
To write the stars that now defend,
What broken will be made to mend.

When the end returns once more,
And destroys the earth back to the core,
We’ll heal what is now left sore.