Artistry With Words

I see sunshine and beautiful colors

COMPLETE RANDOMNESS

The sun no longer smiles upon me,

The moon, cold and uncaring.

Two lines which popped into my head at six a.m. four days ago.

I have no idea where they came from or what inspired them, but there they are, staring at me from my online page, with nowhere to go.

I’m not a poet, so chances are they will go nowhere at all, but that’s how my muse works. I call her Hope, my muse. Why? Because why not!  It’s as good a name as any; better than many.  Anyway, that’s how Hope works. She will toss random words and lines into my brain. Some I catch, like a lazy flyball on a summer’s day, the outfield grass soft underfoot, a gentle breeze, the ball settling softly into the web of my mitt, and some scream beyond my glove, exit velocity one-oh-nine off the bat, rising as it approaches me, well-beyond my reach, over the wall, a grand slam homer for some other writer.

And so it is for many of us who write, the uncertainty and wonder and randomness of it all.

I love it!

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

The things is, and I don’t know why, but I look at those two lines and I absolutely guarantee I could write five-thousand words about them in a short story.  But a poem?  That’s not happening!  It’s just not the way my writer’s brain works.

It’s been interesting working with other writers in my coaching duties.  We all have different perspectives. We all seem to have a specific slant to our writings. We can look at exactly the same thing and see fifty different things, and transform those things into prose or poetry or soapbox rants, meandering our way through a half-million words, piecing together, sorting through, finding just the right one, discarding many, like a pile of Legos becomes a structure or a weapon or – or – or

And God help me, I love it all!

RANDOM THOUGHT WHILE WATCHING THE VOICE

I was thinking about it all, this writing journey, while watching American television viewers pick the wrong finalists on The Voice.  Don’t get me wrong, Micah seems like a really nice kid, but one of the Top Five? Really?

But I was thinking, there is probably a miniscule chance, at best, that my writing will ever “go viral,” as they like to say these social media days.  Most likely my writings will go the way of the dinosaur.  There will be evidence that it existed, but it will be fairly difficult to see proof of that fact, none of my books on bookshelves, none in libraries, and none on any of the bestseller lists. And my articles? Floating around the web, they will be, forever bits of information, available to anyone who manages the correct search query on Google, but few will actually be read ten years from now.

And yet I write, just like those singers on The Voice who were rejected, and just like the street musicians and street artists and any other creatives out there who follow a voice no one else hears, and follow it because they must, for writing feeds my soul, and writing brings me enjoyment and satisfaction and quiets the inner demons who would have me follow a much-more dangerous path

SO THERE YOU HAVE IT

The sun no longer smiles upon me, and yet it does, those words not applicable in my real life, not now, not for thirteen years, not as long as I continue to write and continue to love.

Just random thoughts on this May afternoon, a quick summation of the creative process for yours truly.

Does anyone remember The Walker Brothers from the 60’s music scene? “The Sun Ain’t Going To Shine Anymore?”  Randomness!

Bill

“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”

Tags: writing tips

Background noise drives me bonkers.  Blither, blather, blah, blah, squeaks and talking heads and horns and kids playing, all diminish my concentration and render me useless.  As a writer, I need quiet. I need to be sequestered in a sound-proof booth until the writing is done.

My step-daughter recently bought me a coffee mug which has these words printed on it: “Fu*# Off! I’m writing!” That pretty much says it all about me and writing.

What’s weird about all of this is during my years as a teacher, background noise didn’t bother me at all.  Thirty kids in a classroom didn’t faze me one iota.  The chaos of a playground during recess was music to my ears.  But that was then and this is now, and I’m absolutely no fan of background disruptions.

And we seem to be bombarded by it more now than at any other time, or so me thinks.  Televised media and social media and increased traffic and congestion and, and, and, and, I long for peace and quiet more now than at any other time in my life.

Just shut the hell up!

And most of it is doom and gloom, and that sure as hell doesn’t help, a barrage of warnings and complaints and arguments and demands and my God, people of the world, could you just take a deep breath and let a wave of tranquility have its moment on the planet?

My folks didn’t complain.  I can remember that clearly. They did not have it easy, not by a long shot. They worked for every damned thing they had; they faced hardships; they had some serious reservations about politicians and lawyers and corporate heads; but they did not complain.

“You make your own way in life, Bill. Don’t expect help.  Complainers are people who are looking for sympathy, plain and simple, and in this household you’ll find sympathy between shit and syphilis in the dictionary.  Find a way to get it done and then do it.”

God bless my parents!  They were old school all the way, and there was nothing particularly wrong with old school in theory.  An independent spirit and a philosophy of hard work and determination will get you through some pretty tough times. So I was taught and so I believe.

But the problem with all-inclusive philosophies is they are destined to fail.  One size does not fit all. There are people in this country who are incapable of getting it done on their own, for a variety of reasons, literally millions of people who cannot get by without assistance, and that’s the rub with my parents’ philosophy of isolation and independence.

Just random thoughts as one day flies by, welcoming another, and I ponder my day under eighty-degree skies.

I hope you have a good one and, as always, I’m grateful for your visit and friendship.

Bill

“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”

Tags: writing tips