sweet surrender

so...i've been told (again) that i "have a book in me."

thanks, Universe.  i know.  there are several, actually. 

just gotta figure out which words to focus on first.

in the meantime--while also journaling and scribbling here and there--i'm reading Fruitflesh.

i'm not exactly sure whether i stumbled on Gayle Brandeis' website, or someone pointed me there.  but when i noticed it sitting in my amazon wishlist a couple of weeks ago, i figured i'd snatch it up.

typically i don't do well with workshoppy books {i quit too easily}, but this one's different: the kind of book with a texture, scent, feel...it's like instructive poetry.  and i'm a sucker for anything sensual.  she gets me.  

the idea is to read it once straight through, making notes here and there.  once i've done that, i'll work through the exercises i like or think will help my process. i'll post some of them here.

next: Stephen King's On Writing.  my ex gave it to me years ago, and it's been staring me in the face ever since.

lab work

i've decided that i want my next writing project to be the last one for awhile.

meaning...i want to focus.

i've started many projects, but i don't know that i've ever finished anything beyond a short story.

i'd like to change that.

so while i'm gestating/formulating, this space may turn into a workshop brainstorm drawing board type thing.

i also have a creative playground to fool around in...that might be my primary tool to get the rivers flowing...

let's see what happens. 

current theme song:

return

this has been waiting
patiently
for me to sit still
and let it go...

to acknowledge
and name it
although
it defies description.

i could be staring down
the answers of a thousand prayers;

witnessing the drying
of an ocean's worth of tears...

it wants to be claimed.

i want to be sure.

need
to be sure.

grateful in the meantime,
fearful in the knowing:

love
might live here
again.

using my words

been dancing with some writer's block lately...trying to figure out what to write, how to write it, how to make it make sense...

but i've also been made newly aware of how words can show support, effect change, and share ideas.

that's pretty inspiring.

the exact manifestation eludes me, but i'm more keenly aware that i have work to do.

achiness

remembering that healing is a journey...

reminding myself of what's true, shining light on fear.

my love is too magic to have thrown back on my face.

mama shange's words resonate with me today. deeply.

there is a constant effort to recall that my magic is not the problem...the lack of wizardry and reverence for the Feminine in the present male population is.

needing to reread sassafrass, cypress and indigo...retrace the steps of sassafrass' battle for her soul as she tries to snatch herself back from a no-good man whose best just ain't good enough.

remembering whose i am
who has my back
and what's been promised.

i can be loved.
it is not difficult.
i will be loved.
properly and well.

it is possible...

going in circles...

same old questions
that still don't have answers...

feeling frustrated
dissatisfied
under-accomplished
bored

is there a cure for this?

nanowrimo notes...

from the latest pep talk by kristin:

Listen. Learning to write 50,000 words means learning a whole pile of skills, but they're learnable skills, and you learn them by writing. One of those skills is finding your own technique for dealing with all the voices that are constantly telling you, in one way or another, what a bonehead you are and how bad you are at this and how doomed your project is. I'm not saying don't listen to the voices. Go ahead and listen to them— if you try to ignore them, sometimes they only scream louder. I'm only saying, don't believe them— and, most importantly, don't let them decide how you spend your day. Maybe laugh and give them a hug and say to them, "Yes, you're sad and lonely and desperate for my attention, aren't you? Well, thank you for visiting; stay as long as you need to; but, by the way, I think we're going to have to agree to disagree. Because I know I can do this, and, as it happens, you can't stop me. Want to sit with me at my desk while I show you what I mean?"

they sure know what to say...

i am way, way behind by any stretch of the imagination, although i have logged more words than appear on my counter (haven't updated in some time).

ain't like i've got shit going on. so, there will likely be more writing tonight. we'll see what happens.

nanowrimo notes...

nanowrimo is really a challenge...i'm waaay behind where i'm "supposed" to be, but it was very necessary to have a full and fun weekend.

plot is inching along slowly...new possibilities come to mind like flashes of light.

i may do some freewriting today, email it to myself, and add on when i get home...i don't want to lose this idea that's been brewing the last couple of days.

nanowrimo notes...

skipped a day for nanowrimo. got a case of the blues and they really don't fit into the story...

i do have a scene i could finish up that would add at least a couple hundred words. but the story seems to be shifting itself and i'm not quite sure where its headed.

might wind up clocking some marathon hours over the weekend...

trying to remember...

who i was
who i am
my reality
what i want
my visions
where i'm going
what brings me joy
my smile
my desire
my reason for reincarnating

my dreams
my prayers

my voice...

use your words

...that's the message i'm working with right now.

so i need to write. often. i need to finish one of these half-assed projects that's been rolling around in my head for the past few years.

i suppose that's all well and good. at least it would be if i weren't so...

frustrated
overstimulated
fiercely impatient
overfed
insatiable
tired
cranky
temperamental
dissatisfied
hot (as in warm. literally.)

...aching like a starving goddess with no living medium to remember her name.

it's probably underutilized and stagnant creative energy bubbling up to the surface.

i'd like it to shut up and go away. or at least simmer down.

but i suppose i'll have to bear with the discomfort until i determine how i'm going to use it...

issues

i want to say
something like
"i don't use
band-aids!
...i bleed thru penstrokes and
make pages drip lifewater!"

but it sounds far too cliche.
and these days
i fear those
more than anything.

the world is in serious need
of innovation--
there are already
too many cycles
too much history
too many people
repeating...

i always wonder
if i'm part of the solution
or perpetuating the problem.

i mean,
def poetry
makes everyone old enough to
stay up past midnight
wannabe a poet.

every hustla's the next jay-z
get shot and you're an instant ja rule
maybe even a pac or biggie-style martyr

i write 'cause i have to.

there's no goal or destination,
no record deal or basement studio cd--

i just do this.
automatically.
universal ticker tape machine
running off emotional dividends
and updates on the worth of the ancestors
(refreshed daily for someone's convenience)

so i won't start in on
the beauty of my nubian people
the merits and/or detriment of pussy poems or
late night thoughts of wrist-slitting and angst.

i just want to know
if any of these words have a purpose
and constantly consider
the validity
of the messenger.