Tiny White Flowers

Tiny White Flowers

Monday, November 17, 2008

Artist's Way Journal - Week Nine, Day One

Well, I haven't given up yet.  In what little I've accomplished with regards to Chapter Eight I've realised that within my own family I've mostly been given encouragement with regards to artistic endeavors.  Especially from my DGM, and my DF.  Both were/are creative in many ways.  DF hasn't done much with his creativity in the last few years, though, and that might be due a lot to depression on and off.  He really is good, and I know that when I'm feeling most creative/doing creative things I feel better.  

I want to submit more work this week, and get on top of whatever deadlines might be coming up for book manuscripts.  I also need to write my poem of the day.  Also, I want to get to the business of writing the Morning Pages much earlier.  My DS will be home for the next two days, so this will be challenging, as he likes to be on the computer more than he will admit.  I can take my time, but not without interruption.  Its conference week, and his appt. is tomorrow before I go to work.  

Also, I'm beginning a new class session tomorrow, with some new students.  I hope the tension surrounding the class times/available spots for participants/etc. has calmed down.  I want to be able to focus just on the class and not the politics of the gym at this point.  I really like the people, and don't want to change the mood.  I want people to enjoy being in class, and to be able to utilise the time as best as possible.

I'm going to look for a poem to retire with...

Here's one by Gwendolyn Brooks:

Kitchenette Building
 We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan, 
Grayed in, and gray. "Dream" mate, a giddy sound, not strong 
Like "rent", "feeding a wife", "satisfying a man". 

But could a dream sent up through onion fumes 
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes 
And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall, 
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms, 

Even if we were willing to let it in, 
Had time to warm it, keep it very clean, 
Anticipate a message, let it begin? 

We wonder. But not well! not for a minute! 
Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now, 
We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it. 

Gwendolyn Brooks
Gwendolyn Brooks

Oh, and the prompt for Day 17 of Poem a Day:

Today's prompt is to write a love poem. This may or may not gel with some poets' themes, though I'm sure if you bend the rules enough, anything is possible. Your poem can be pro-love, anti-love, confused-love, love-it-or-leave-it, etc. Your poem, your rules.

(Thanks to Robert Brewer!!)


No comments:


Related Posts with Thumbnails