Our vanishing act is a spectrum of messages tiptoeing the resonance frequency. Body of light and energy. The sun glares at us. We stare back.
Tag: Arts
Poetry Writing Challenge #13
National Poetry Writing Month (also known as NaPoWriMo) is a creative writing project held annually in April in which participants attempt to write a poem each day for one month.
Today is Day 13 of the challenge… I heard from a trusted source that it’s not too late to enter the challenge!
“Your prompt for today is simply to take a walk. Make notes — mental or otherwise — on what you see on your walk, and incorporate these notes into your poem. A bit more serene and observational than yesterday, and hopefully a nice, calming poem to begin your weekend with.”
Paper Dance Steps
She
CUTS an old-fashioned
dress
pattern
into paper dance steps
for left and right
FOOT.
She lays the makeshift choreography on the frozen sidewalk
directly below her ninth floor Boston apartment.
She counts from 1 to 100
for her partner to appear.
What is Love?
The question what is love is the most popular search on Google — but what’s the answer?
A. Chemistry
B. Pragma — mature love which develops over a long period of time.
C. Love is not one thing.
D. Love is obsession, all-consuming, like a physical pain.
E. Love is freedom.
F. Love is all of the above.
G. Love is none of the above.
F. “Follow your bliss.” – Joseph Campbell
Transforming…
As we grow old…the beauty steals inward.
Girl on Chameleon Street
Creative power, in whatever form it is released, moves like the dancer’s muscles.
Soul Survival
“Sometimes we are blessed with being able to choose the time and the arena, and the manner of our revolutions, but more usually we must do battle where we are standing.”
“And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid
So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.”
― Audre Lorde, The Black Unicorn: Poems 
Mad in Bohemia
I don’t believe in absolutes, hence I’ve never really believed in gay or straight or even black or white, for that matter. If we’re all truly creating our own reality at any given point in (or out of ) time, then can we also be fluid about where we want to be on the spectrum of Who We Really Are at any given moment?
Part of the reason for starting this blog is that I’m experimenting with the idea of my identity being on a sliding scale from 1 to 6. 1 is this is absolutely who I am (of course nothing is listed in column 1) and 6 is my non-physical being who is not at all bothered by the weight of gravitational pull… Maybe one day I will get around to devising a survey or a questionnaire to explain all this randomness in a universally readable format.
I live in hope!
