It all began with a grape

I watched him from the corner of my eye meticulously peeling the thin, flimsy skin off of a pale-green grape as he sat beside the living room window. A wan shaft of light struggled to cut the frustrating, dense mood of the morning, illuminating his ghastly frame as he continued with his painstaking yet familiar task.

My eyes shifted back to my own arduous endeavour of trying to create a still-life drawing of a small glass elephant next to a garishly green tea cup. As I tried to perfect the curvature of the elephant’s graceful trunk, I heard him as he squelched the grape finally between his teeth accompanied with a low sigh of contentment. Grapes were his favourite.

He leaned back against the wooden chair with his eyes closed and I briefly imagined walking up behind him, snaking my arms around his bony shoulders until my hands could slowly close around his rail-thin neck, squeezing until my fingers glowed an angry red against his eerily blue skin – putting both of us out of our misery.

I sighed loudly – destroying the all too deafening silence – pitched my pencil away and ripped the page from my drawing book, crumpling the half-hearted excuse of an elephant into a ball. He remained with his eyes closed but inquired softly, “What has my precious artist so petulant?”. I walked over to the windows closing the drapes tightly and growled, “nothing, dear.”

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All too distant memory

There was once a time

When I enjoyed life dearly…

I was but a child.

New Challenge

For a few years I did ‘challenges’… one picture a day for a year, one good thing a day for a year… but last year and this year I just wasn’t able not stick with anything. Every time I would start a challenge I phased out after a month or two.

Over the summer vacation this year I even tried doing a bullet journal – that lasted one month. Though I did get a friend to take it up seriously… so I suppose that was my good deed for the year pertaining to challenges.

However, the same friend I got interested in the bullet journal process posed in interesting challenge to me for next year.

She challenged me to write one paragraph a day for the year. The paragraphs do not have to be connected (or they can be), as the idea is really just TO write… something, anything, everything.

My main block is that I want to write but don’t know WHAT to write and end up not writing anything at all because I am so concerned what medium I want to focus on – poetry? Novel? Short story ? … fictional? Biographical? …

So I can’t say how long I might even be able to keep up with this challenge (if at all), but I am going to give it a try and not overthink trying to make it perfect. Finding inspiration is always very hard, especially when you’re always in a particular frame of mind so you feel that your writing may be repetitive as it stems from that place. But I am going to give it a try and see what happens…

I will probably post the paragraphs here everyday since I find this to be the easiest way for me to put down ideas …

Here’s to hopefully writing in 2018…

Writing …

How do you know if you’re a good writer ? Do we measure good writing based on … once we put out something that is ‘true’ to ourselves? Or is it really measured by how many people recognize you AS a writer …

Many musicians say they start out in the industry trying to please execs / fabricate a sound that isn’t necessarily their aesthetic and they only feel like they are truly making music when they do the music THEY want to make… I suppose it’s the same idea for writers and artists.

Very much like the Langston Hughes poem ‘Theme for English B’ the statement “go home and write a page tonight – and let that page come out of you and then it will be true” has always been how I’ve approached writing… I just wait till something circulated in my head so much so, that I am sure without a doubt that it’s a concretized idea that needs to be born into the world … and then I write.

Can you will yourself to write ? How do writers meet deadlines or ensure that their work is of the integrity they want it to be without compromising the art of writing? How do you put forth an idea if there happens to be none ? And what guarantee is there that anything that is put forth is good ?!

I don’t think my aim is to be some world renowned writer (though I am sure that would be nice), rather I just want to be true to this talent I think I have … I don’t want to waste anymore time thinking about the fact that I SHOULD write – I want to just write and whatever happens when I do just happens …

Whether that will be a short story, a full length story, a host of poems or a script remains to be seen but I am hoping to release those trapped words from inside of me one day and maybe, just maybe it may reach its true home wherever that may be.