Tiny White Flowers

Tiny White Flowers

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Artist's Way Journal - Week Seven, Day Six

At this point, I find this diabetes thing is getting to me.  It's hard on DS, it's hard on DH, and DD, I'm sure.  Not to mention the fact that DS is getting behind on his school work.  And I find myself wondering if his teachers are really "getting" the situation.  And if the teachers wonder if *I* get it.  All I know is, we have good days, and bad days, and we are just plain behind.  Getting used to diabetes with a 13 year old, and trying to figure out the financial part is damn tough.  It's downright stressful, and very tiring.  We're still getting up at 2 am for blood sugar checks.  I want a break!!!  And, so does DS--the one who's life has changed most dramatically.

So, I think my Artist Date was the meeting for C C Review I attended this morning.  It was a bright spot in my day, and the women who are in charge are wonderful.  We had a good meeting about the up-coming issue, and great conversation afterwards. It is so nice to be able to talk about things in common that might not be so "common" to others.  To explore possibilities beyond the normal scope.  Definitely feeding the creative being.  Our talks left me feeling more than ever the desire to be better in touch with my senses.  

I haven't done all the assignments in the chapter, but have read them all.  I have been so taken over by figuring out all the diabetes paraphernalia we need to have for DS, including getting the Novolog in cartridge form so that he can use the pen instead of syringes at school.  DD started driving lessons yesterday.  I am getting closer to being finished with the choreography for the gym.  This doesn't leave much time or brain power for creativity!  But, I am still writing a little poem a day, and that in itself is exciting.

I will admit something--I have a hope that one of my manuscripts will be selected for publication.  There is a press I'm waiting to hear from, and haven't yet.  I so hope they like my work well enough.  I've come so close.  My full-length mss. was runner-up to the winner last year, and it has been a finalist and semi-finalist as well.  I should really take another look at it, and see if there are any revisions that need to be made.  

Now, I'm going to cut things short, and go write my 8th day poem.  First I'll check the prompt.  
Okay, here's what Robert Brewer gave as today's kickstart:

Know how we had a prompt yesterday for a myth poem? Today, I'd like you to write a fact poem. Research a fact (or facts) about your theme and create a poem. Or make up a fact. Or spin a myth into a fact. Or, well, you get the idea.

Okay, fair enough.  Up I go.  But, before I go, a poem~


Do not go gentle into that good night, 
Old age should burn and rave at close of day; 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, 
Because their words had forked no lightning they 
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright 
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, 
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, 
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight 
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, 
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. 
Do not go gentle into that good night. 
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas


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