When I Was a Child - 4th in Series

The following is from a writing exercise borrowed from the book Walking in The World by Julia Cameron. The words in italics are direct quotations from that book. I have already completed this exercise in my personal journal with answers a bit different. There are a total of 10 questions. The first six were completed and posted November 7th, followed by the next two on November 8th and 9th. Today's post is the ninth of the ten. For this work day, direction is the next focus of Identify Your Identity in Chapter Two of Walking in The World.

When I was a Child - Continued

One action I can take in the direction of my childhood love is….

read, read, read and keep writing on a daily basis 

(that’s actually two but I think they are of equal importance).

“If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have 

the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”

~ Stephen King

When I was a Child - 3rd in Series

The following is from a writing exercise borrowed from the book Walking in The World by Julia Cameron. The words in italics are direct quotations from that book. I have already completed this exercise in my personal journal with answers a bit different. There are a total of 10 questions. I’ve done the first six on November 7th post. Today is one more work day - still two posts to go in this series. Here is my next post from Identify Your Identity in Chapter Two.

When I was a Child - Continued 2nd

The reason it is too late for me in this lifetime is......Well actually it isn't too late ~ even though I have considered that:
          a) I'm too old 
          b) no money tree around 
          c) Victoria is a veritable haven of writer's, artists 
          d) I'll just never be famous! 

But, although my passion for paper dolls has vanished, I still love designing, learning and now, word crafting. And, when I was lost in my paper doll fun, I didn’t know much about writing or what it was good for. Now, I can learn more about creative writing and with retirement soon upon me, I will have more time dedicated to writing the stories, poems and essays that swirl in my head.

“If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.”

~ Tom Stoppard

When I was a Child ~ 2nd in Series

The following is from a writing exercise borrowed from the book Walking in The World by Julia Cameron. The words in italics are direct quotations from that book. I have already completed this exercise in my personal journal with answers a bit different. There are a total of 10 questions. I’ve done the first six on yesterday's post. Today begins the next four days, which are work days. I will post one a day to complete the last four. Here is continuation of Identify Your Identity in Chapter Two of Walking in The World.

When I was a Child ~ Continued

If I had another life, the art form I would start exploring early is.......

Sketching, drawing and designing gowns and clothing!

I actually did that for my paper dolls but have never seen any on the runways of the world! ~ If memory serves, I always felt very peaceful when bent over my pencils, crayons and paper dolls.

“What one loves in childhood stays in the heart forever.”

~ Mary Jo Putney

When I Was a Child - 1st in Series

Not quite as blurry as my memories

The following is from a writing exercise borrowed from the book Walking in The World by Julia Cameron.  The words in italics are direct quotations from that book. I have already completed this exercise in my personal journal with answers a bit different. There are a total of 10 questions. I’ll only do six today.  In the next four days, which are work days, I will post one a day to complete the last four.  Here is my introduction to Identify Your Identity  in Chapter Two.

When I was a Child

When I was a small child, I dreamed of growing up to be……..

oh, wait - I was dreamy - I think - 

memory does not serve up a picture, a thought, a desire.

In my childhood my interest what art was encouraged………

oh, wait - I didn’t see cutting out paper dolls, colouring, 

learning to create a meal and bake bread as artistic.

In my childhood, my interest in what art was discouraged……

oh, wait - cutting out paper dolls and colouring were merely distractions;

creating a meal, baking bread and sewing was what was done - so

no discouragement - just things on the to do list.

If I had had more encouragement , I would probably have tried…….

Which one?  All of them? Or a different one?

Writing stories like Jo March in Little Women tucked up in her

peaceful attic garret away from the noise of growing up.

The teacher who helped me see my gifts was…..

hmmmmm - so many ~ from grandparents to parents,

siblings and cousins to my teachers in school or 

am I still dreaming of growing up?

The childhood friend who helped me see my gifts was…….

another tough one! We all learned from each other but

it was about the childhood games of Green Ghost, Kick the Can;

playing Scrabble and Go Fish and which colours of crayons were the best.

“Does childhood really happen? Do we imagine it? 

Everyone remembers something else….”

~ Kiana Davenport, Shark Dialogues

Every Day Matters

Every day matters that we dream 

and see reality until patterns emerge 

with gaps, shapes and focus ~ brush strokes hidden in the colours, corners and swirls until we look closely 

to see where the artist has been.

Every day matters are as simple as washing sheets worn and worried with busy, unsettled sleep tossing and turning in awakening lives, tripping through daisies on our way to reality.

Every day matters become real and important

when it is the novels and mysteries that we read, 

the gaudy or dowdy clothes that we wear 

or food that we eat with gusto or just because. 

Every day matters are at least as important 

as grand schemes at the top of the heap of humanity 

that ebbs and flows around us seeking progress

that seems unreachable because of the crowd.

Every day matters are the cogs on our own wheels, 

the gears that we shift to find the right speed 

to take us over rocky or flat terrain, rivers or streams

with or without sustenance, peace and joy.

Every day matters not what we think 

but what we do while our thoughts tell us 

what screw to turn, what ladder to climb, what speed to go

never a thought to what does come first ~ thought or action. 

Every day matters to each of us 

but we may not know what has mattered or 

we may know what matters for us but 

not what matters to the next guy.

“It’s not the extremes and the treats that are the problem. It’s the everyday.”

~ Jamie Oliver

Slow Bursts

Committing to tolerance is 

like taking a deep breath

each morning when joints creak, muscles protest and whine, eyes take a bit longer to focus and waking with energy is alien.

Sleep shaken off, muscles and joints begin to cooperate, a good cup of tea ~ or coffee ~ brings peace to my being ~ then ~ taking the deep breath of tolerance I bring slow bursts of energy to my day.

“Growing old is humbling and it takes effort 

to accomplish this stage of life with dignity.”

~ Kilroy J.Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls

Restoration ~1

Agreeing with each other is hard. And it should be. I wouldn’t have said that this morning with such finality. Intellectually I knew agreeing with each other should be hard. I have written stories, dialogue, essays and poetry. All of them short. Short because I couldn’t finish them. They were all in an attempt to sugar coat the truth. To make it easier to swallow.  I couldn’t even rely on Mary Poppins' ‘spoonful of sugar’ to make this awful medicine go down. So I’ve had to putter about, read, clean up my kitchen and let all my thoughts go on their own. Finally I had to tell myself the truth - agreeing with each other, all the time, about everything, is impossible - and should be. Disagreement may even involve passionate anger.

 Where had I been stuck? I do not like disagreement or confrontation that leads to argument, ridicule, fighting, name calling and all that goes with those dreadful things. In the last many months there has been so very much of all of those things. Personalities torn asunder. Mud slinging. Lies about the very truths that most of us have learned since childhood. Kindness, tolerance and human decency has been trampled and trashed. It has been too much, too often and too loud. Turning away from the reality of this magnitude is not helpful. I do hope I’m not alone feeling quite powerless to do anything to restore peace and calm to our societies.

“Everything can be restored. If one won’t believe that, 

how does one endure all this?”

~ Chris Cleave, Everyone Brave is Forgiven