poetry in every day

I’ve been feeling like I want to get back into writing again, and I’ve had this itch for a while now. And by “get back into writing” I mean proper creative writing. I know blogging technically counts as writing, and I suppose there’s some element of creativity, since you are creating something, but I think I really want to write stories again.

The problem is I don’t know what to write about. My last serious attempt at writing a decent-length story started getting rather depressing, so I ditched it. (I couldn’t really handle churning through so much emotion, and I wasn’t sure how to pull the whole thing from the depths of misery it was drowning in.) Continue reading

feel free to disagree

I have what most would call a fear of heights. I prefer to call it a fear of falling from great heights, since, if I feel secure and not at risk of falling, I can stand in high places without much anxiety. But I wonder if maybe I’m not afraid of heights or falling at all.

For a long time now, believing that I have this fear, I have at times challenged myself to peer from great heights to places and things far below. For example, if I am in one of those kinds of elevators that have glass walls, I will watch the lower floors as they become more and more distant. If I happen to go to an observation deck or some other high-up balcony or vantage point of a very tall building, I will go right up to the railing and look out. Continue reading

adrift

As we enter a new year, and a lot of people are contemplating what they want to achieve, what they want to change, or what they want to keep and nourish; I, quite honestly, feel a little lost. But maybe not so much lost as “adrift” or “suddenly aware that I’ve been adrift for a while, riding the gentle waves of a lake, no longer sure what shore I left from or which bank I need to go to”.

Of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with the situation – there’s no storm brewing, no predator beneath the surface of the water, no structural problem with the boat, or shortage of supplies – but I feel a little adrift. Continue reading

more lessons from the garden

Back in October, I wrote about some tomato plants I had, and how good they were for making analogies for life lessons. In the intervening time, I’ve eaten plenty of cherry tomatoes, and given many away, but must now sadly report that the tomato plants are almost all wiped out. Well, I was sad and distressed at first, but I think I’ve come to terms with it now.

I think it started to go downhill when I went away for a week to attend a cousin’s wedding interstate. There was a fair bit of rain forecast for that week, so I wasn’t too worried. Besides, I knew my uncle would pop by now and then to check up on everything. When I returned, however, I could tell the plants were struggling: they weren’t as green and leafy as when I left, and there weren’t many viable tomatoes on the vines. Continue reading

when sharing is not caring (part 1)

I have actually been a bit reluctant to write this post because I don’t want to give the impression that I think I know everything about this matter (which I don’t) but it’s something that I think about a lot, so I wanted to just put this out there and see what other people think. I was going to just make this a singular post, but it ended up being so long, I’ve decided to split it into two separate posts. [Part 2 will be published next week.]

People who know me well will know that I care a lot about environmental conservation. I spend a great deal of time reflecting on how my actions affect the environment (quite possibly as a result of getting this drilled into me in Grade 4). Lately I’ve taken to pondering about the impact of societal changes on energy usage and waste production.  Continue reading

possibilities

Sometimes I wonder if my tendency to attach meaning to even the most ordinary things is a product of my being a reader or a writer.

Reading shows me many possibilities. Writing makes me want to seek more possibilities.

Symbolism, metaphors, analogies, lyricism…

Did I learn these from reading or writing? (I suppose the two go hand-in-hand.)

Lightning, butterflies, a speeding car, an ominous cloud…

Do I dramatise things because that’s what I’ve been shown, or because that is what I seek?

Still water, a familiar scent, refracted light, cautious footsteps…

How do I know if it is excessive? An affliction?

Nervous excitement, a poem, fallen leaves, a dream…

Of all the possibilities in the world, I’m not sure if it’s possible to really change this. I’m not sure if I would.

A waterfall, memories, a soothing melody, sunshine…