Daily writing practice
2021/8/8 #poetry Gradients are so nice. Why? What about the simple blending transformation of one color into another is so wonderful? Is there a musical analog to this visual effect? I don't have any answers here, but these aren't the kind of questions that need them. It is enough to ponder and let the wondering flow.
2021/8/7 #poetry Right, right, that makes sense. All of it. Or perhaps it's just that the language is well constructed. There are no syntactic errors for my mind to catch on. Perhaps there's nothing to the words, they may be empty but that wouldn't cause me to notice, wouldn't tip me off to them seeming wrong. They may even sound nice, be poetic or suggest nice imagery. They could still be empty depending on context. I'll have to listen well and not only listen but fit what I hear with what I already understand. Process the words. Take them slow if I must. Be deliberate with my assessment. Hold off on agreement. Resist assumption. Make sense of it.
2021/8/6 #poetry It only took a few seconds after I arrived and the crows took flight, heading off into the fog. It wasn't very heavy fog down near the ground and I was able to watch them sail toward the bay for 10 or so blocks before they disappeared. I was expecting them to circle around and return to where I was since I've seen flocks do that many times before but this time that did not happen. The fog was still bright the whole sky glowing grey even though the sun must have been setting somewhere. The temperature was fine and the trees and shrubs smelled wonderful on the gentle wind. I turned around to head up the short grass covered slope. My body was feeling rather good but my mood kept running aground, scraping rocks. I wasn't in a bad mood per se, but I felt a lot of drag. It had been a rather unproductive day and I'd hoped to have spent it better. I was outside and that was good but it wasn't giving me consolation as well as it should. I was progressing, I told myself, I was doing well. I had not the focus where I wanted it I suppose. I could sustain a positive feeling for only a minute with intent and without I just had to sigh, give in to the weight of the undone.
2021/8/5 #poetry Way with along we go. Tonal timbre trailing. Adaptive agent all around. Encouraging everyone gently. Gently. Gently. Only without strong force would anyone accept. Taking the tools together, bundled, bunched, and bagged, expertise exquisite, each used appropriately. Out, and out again. If you live in, you must out to gather, to grow. In, in, and farther in the stream trickles closer, ever.
2021/8/4 #poetry Working on it, everyday in fact. I told you I was working on it & I am. It's taking time, and I don't know how much longer. That's the way with creative things. You can't see it now. You won't 'till it's done. Whenever that is. It takes time to make these things. I could try to estimate, sure, but I don't actually know how big it will be overall when it's done in the first place. Also even if it's getting close to some size I may need to redo some parts or overhaul it from the start. Can't rush art, as they say. I mean it is art & I can't rush it. That's ok though, there's no need. I've got time. You've got time. There's time. Rushing is for rivers, not us. I won't hesitate if I need help. I'll clue you in as much as you need. I'm not shy about it, and I can take advice.
2021/8/3 Out from under the thick root it ventured. Exploring with its ears, nose, and whiskers, moving slowly. The thing that scared it, whatever that was, was gone. Staying close to the tree the squirrel circled around, to see if anything else was there. The leaves in the wind high above seemed to be the only thing moving now. Back to work. Scruffling under some leaves it dug out a buried mushroom. Looking around again for any sign of anything or anyone nearby first it took a nibble and carried it off to a burrow. Mushroom stashed away, it went out again. Time to find some water now.
2021/8/2 #poetry True, true, I think so too. When we started it was so so smooth. Now we seem to be stuck in a rather rough groove. With time things change, with time things stale. What is good or bad and by what scale? If we strike a path through an unmapped land we should mark our trail, pull a line through the sand. Then if not our place or to where we move, we can at least know that we go not backwards as we rove. At any point perhaps we'll say that here is our destination where we should stay. It is up to us, however we feel, to make our choice, to make it real.
2021/8/1 I thought I might just take my mind off of it for a while. Some TV could do the trick. Or perhaps a tub of non-dairy frozen desert. I used to call it icecream but it's not, is it. The time I spend avoiding may actually benefit me and my work, or... it may just put pressure on by compressing the time in which I have to get the work done. Some things I really do have to mull over for a while. Let percolate. It's easy to see why, if I get good results much of the time, I do it so frequently.
2021/7/31 #poetry Take that stuff that dreams are formed with. Not that nicey sweet idea of a good dream, just dreams, the ones that people have when they sleep. Take some 'o that dream makin' material and put it all over a pice of paper. Perhaps store it in an inkpot first, and then take it up into a pen or a brush and work it onto the paper as you like. Make some moving and memorable, intense and activating creation. Do to that paper something fantastic so others that notice it are fascinated or afraid or hold it sacred. Build it into something that has presence, that takes up much more space than it should, that dominates the room. Something that you can't ignore or forget in a drawer. Something that surprises anyone that lifts it up that it only weighs as much as a sheet of paper contrasting with their expectation that it would be monumentally heavy due to its exceptional, grand, and magnificent character. Imbue it with all this power and see if that will change how you feel about yourself.
2021/7/30 Regarding the internet in the sense of a vast and easily accessible library of knowledge, it is tiresomely common to find that the time spent absorbing information related to some work that is being done outweighs or severely detracts from the work itself. Predigested answers are really best when you are stuck to prevent getting sidetracked into research and gaining new understanding. Before writing, all direct answers were predigested. You could only get them from people who had a sense of what to answer. They could expand upon things that didn't yet make sense to you or direct your attention away and to more relevant things that did make sense. This form of knowledge exchange is still possible but we also have written language and other forms of media that don't have the capability of explaining or redirecting you, but with the internet it seems like we can get all those explanations with a bit more time, by looking them up ourself. This deception is hard to shake, even when you know it is not true.