I had a notion

To create something really remarkable. But then I realised that actually all I had were the faint echoes of a vocabulary that once packed the shelves of my brains. Now a few words lie peppered around, some discarded in cobwebbed corners, others seizing their bags and donning their hats, not giving me a second glance as they walk out the front door.

They say there are some skills you never forget; how to ride a bike, how to swim, how to canter on a horse. Unfortunately, words are very easily forgotten.

You might meet a word one day, delight in its absolute unique wonderment. You might use it tirelessly in all your sentences, rolling it over your tongue, tasting it sweet and sour and bitter and salty, in all the seasons and in every situation imaginable.

After a few weeks when the novelty of the word has died away and a new one has taken its place, it is stacked away neatly in one of the many word shelves in your brain, to be picked out at a moment’s notice, and inserted gracefully in conversation or writing. It would adorn your creativity, deck your work for conquest. It would be your crown of inventive acumen.

You would, in short, have so many words at your beck and call, to use when you desire. Your work would only require imagination to spur it on.

But if you leave those words lying around for too long, collecting dust, unused and uncared for, they will eventually seek use elsewhere. They will seek another creator’s work, and you will see them in the crisp new pages of somebody else’s book.

The same could be said for knowledge. Knowledge is something that inspires creativity. Thinking the same things everyday, doing the same things everyday, watching the same things everyday is not enough to expand your mind. You would need to read in depth, and explore many subjects, and cross the boundaries of topics, join them together, like golden threads running between, creating new things which are built of old.

Knowledge which is not refreshed becomes old and outdated. It disengages people and eventually disengages you from life and from motivation.

I reached for my words, I reached for my knowledge, and found nothing. I think it’s time to cross some new boundaries.

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Walrus in my Throat

 

I was going to write a post moaning about my life.

But then I realised that my family loves me, and even though marriage is hard work and doesn’t always make you feel great, it’s still something worth fighting for.

All the Christmas cheer makes me feel irritable and prone to hide away like a grinch, but I am happy everybody else is happy. I am happy that happiness exists in the world, and that even in the most trying of times, people are willing to share and give to those less fortunate. There are so many heart warming stories out there. I guess this ‘Christmas cheer’ does something to cold hearts after all.

The sight of somebody I used to know made me feel as though I was going to vomit from fear this week. It ruined my whole mood and turned my day gloomy and dreadful. That is, full of dread. But then I realised that I am a strong lady, and even if he did come to me and make my life miserable again I can kick him out because nobody will rule my life like that. Nobody. I refuse to let it happen. The very idea that it used to happen makes me so angry. So if push comes to shove, I will resurrect all my anger and use it to my advantage. Strength, my dear, strength.

I don’t want to do anything. But if I don’t, I will underachieve. If there’s one thing I have learnt about life, it is that it is brutal. It carries on despite you not being able to keep up. The more you lag behind, the more it swiftly speeds on ahead. So I have learnt that the only way to keep up is to go through the motions.

Get out of bed. Complete all set tasks. Achieve short term goals, which are slow ticks on a list that add up to a long term goal. Along the way, you might burst through a ray of sunshine. A walk on a grassy hill. The wind in your hair as you sail down a hill. Rain pattering on the trees, releasing a deliciously rich, earthy smell. A surprise kiss. A piece of chocolate melting in your mouth after a particularly hard day. An evening of laughter.

I will be strong.

I will be happy.

I will be successful.

I will feed my soul. There is very little soul feeding going on in the world lately.

I will spread joy.

I will live life.

I will drown the demons. They cannot win.

Meanwhile there is a perpetual walrus in my chest and sometimes it climbs up into my throat and makes tear-water leak from my eyes. But I will smother him. It’s not the time. It’s not the time. Yet.

Soon I will be alone, to have a nice lonely cry and feel sorry for myself, get it out of my system and then dry my tears and carry on.

Merry Carrying On to you all!

Leaving the Green

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Photo credit: Yours truly.

This is a throwback to when it was warmer. I smelled the greenery and grass whenever I opened my windows. When I walked out the main door I was greeted with fields and the blossoming of spring into summer. It was food for the heart, mind and soul.

Now I still have that, and it’s still food; mighty mighty food. The trees may be bare, the fields muddy, but I love it. I can stand on top of my hill and see the meadows rolling away before me, the lake nestled in between cosy looking homes, orange lights twinkling out. It was my special place, and I am leaving so have to make the most of every single one of my last four days here. It’s day two, and I haven’t stepped out of my tiny little attic! Help! I am in a rut!

I don’t want to live in the city again. But I suppose it was inevitable, we aren’t farmers! Although the idea of farming doesn’t sound very distasteful you know.

But here are a few pictures of what it was like back in March.

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Is It Really Necessary?

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Well, is it?

You tell me.

An example. I wanted to buy a funky ornament. It was a motorbike (or motorcycle for you Americans) made out of old watch parts. Damnit. I wish I took a picture! It was stunning, gleaming and so steampunk. Also inventive, artistic and a fantastic way to use an old broken watch.

I could tell lots of care and attention went into making it. How proud the artist must be.

I also thought how artists and creative people gather a lot of clutter.

Before I married Damian and moved in with him my bedroom was like this:

Many tottering stacks of books from all genres in all the available nooks and crannies. Polished and varnished original floorboards with lime green vines painted on in one corner. A yellow wall covered in colourful postcards from around the country (also some from various places in Europe and three from Barbados when Aunty Jo was on holiday there).

These things covering every free surface:

Paintbrushes, pens, canvases, papers, scrapbooks, booklets, notebooks, doodles, folders, glittery pen holders, a ceramic hand draped with necklaces and rings and pretty bracelets, a glass bowl filled with beads, Sir Jiles Darcy (Lulu’s pet rock), pots and potions, purses, a teeny glass vial labelled ‘fairy dust’ and filled with superfine glittery sand (a memoir from childhood plays with friends), a large glass diamond, marbles, old coins, old stamps, lots and lots of keyring, fairy lights, calligraphy pens, mini globes, steampunk ornaments, candles…

I could go on all day. Honestly. I had so much, and always accumulated more. My room was warm and cosy and interesting and colourful and cluttered!

Now my room is clean and tidy, all my books are put neatly away, all my odd little trinkets have vanished, replaced by neat stacks of untouched paints and paintbrushes. The theme is white and grey and brown, compared to the blues and reds and yellows and greens and splashes of everything you could imagine before.

So today, I stood staring wistfully at the pretty watch motorbike, and I thought about all the things I have to pack away in boxes, and all the things I gave away, and the lack of colour in my home, but all the things I have to lug around with me as I move around the country living in many different homes and I said, aloud, “is that really necessary?”

Well, that is arguable.

Maybe it is not necessary in that I don’t need it. But I want it, I want interesting things to adorn my bare surfaces. I want things to look at and contemplate. I want colour and vividly and brightness and things, like thoughts, to crowd my room. It inspires me and gears my brain for creativity!

I think the state of my room now reflects the state of my brain. It feels empty, I am lacking creativity, my thoughts are stagnant and repetitive, I haven’t painted in years, I am not as witty as I used to be. Something needs to be done! I need to bring back some of my clutter! It’s too tidy!

This is my computer background, a delicious, colourful, vibrant mess!

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So I ask you, dear reader, is it really necessary?