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tortoise and the hare

Fables – a message for life or nanowrimo at least. The word count goal today should be 13600. I am 8953 – so at the start of the day I am only 65% towards my cumulative goal. In other words, I have to write half of what it took me a week to write and do this in a single day to even reach the goal word count score. A hairy (I mean scary) thought. I could become quite depressed at this stage, only one week into the challenge. I could decide to throw in the towel and get back to doing some painting. I could do lots of things, but I am reminded of the tortoise and the hare – I will keep plodding along. In the end I might just get there!?!

nano goal, day 8

searching for a plot – day 6

nanowrimo, day 6 OK … I am 7272 word in – and behind schedule from a word count perspective but it is only now in signing off today that I finally start to feel a germ of a plot developing along the sidelines, and I think it is going to turn what I have written so far completely upside down – but not out the window – 7272 words is 7272 words after all.

Maybe I have taken the phrase “literary abandon” a little too seriously … some common sense should apply – like think about a plot, think about a plot … my Flickr photo for the day sums it up –

trust the process

Wow, it is nearly embarrassing to be back here. It is so long since I have posted, but November is the month for writing and I have signed up for the second time to start that mad journey of Nanowrimo. It has been a slow start to the season. There is little to no story line, a few unrelated ideas and at the last count 5800 of ramblings but my motto will be “Trust the Process”.

This year will be a completely different story and genre than my fantastical world of Zetoec. In my head at the moment is a lonely old woman, with packing boxes all around her … and I think I can sense a cat called Mosely.

getting reacquainted

It is so long since I have walked these corridors. The door hinges were rusty and I forgotten the key to gain entry to the main foyer. However, once recovered from the mossy recesses of my mind, I was greeted by the hollow sound of my footsteps trolling through the hallways. Dust floating on the shafts of light that filter through the grimy window panes. I take a moment to get reacquainted, and now that I am here it is all comes rushing back to me. The late nights I would pour over the keyboard to write some words to share with a passing world, hoping that some accidental tourist may take a moment’s respite to share my story.

I often have dreams about a house – it is a familiar house this dream house, and I am usually wandering through its empty rooms – not necessarily searching for something but more trying to evoke a lost memory, a transient idea, to capture some moment of … comfort. To return to this site is reminiscent of those dreams. Nothing here has changed, but I feel fundamentally changed, and so I have.

My absence here has shadowed a transformation taking place in another world. There has been disintegration and my parting words in Sacrifice was perhaps a premonition of that dark but thankfully temporary journey. I originally wrote that poem – at another time of significant change accompanied with a sense of personal sacrifice.

There has been a conscientious shedding of old habits and from the layers of decay- the timid emergence of a new sense of self discovery. I have shaved off all my hair – and although in doing so raised money for a worthwhile charity, it was a personally symbolic gesture, a mark of transition. I have started drawing and painting again and have attempted subject matters that I would have never contemplated before. I have discovered I can be creative without “my old crutches”. I have finally acknowledged the self abuse I have subjected my body to and now listen to its pleas for healthy food and exercise.

So as much as it is great to be back, I might do some redecorating.


I came
butterfly took
run rose
river sang

I came
tortoise heard
sun walked
waterfall cried

I came
pawn thought
sun slept
mountain blue

I came
bamboo danced
stars played
stream laughed

I came
monkey forgot
moon turned
today died

I came
tiger killed
religion lost
love answered

eye saw
ear heard
mouth spoke
heart felt

I came
lips red
breasts blue
thighs green

The Fabric of Story Telling

Word Challenge # 5 – FOIBLE

It has been a little while since I last attempted the word challenge and to write a creative piece, although the story I wrote has been drifting around in my head for a couple of days.  I am finding that the more I write, the more I want to play with words, and twist the meanings – I guess it is what I like to look for in a novel or story – the unexpected and unlikely turns.  I am not sure why fabric (the fabric of life) has been central to my thoughts lately, but it has become central to today’s word challenge yarn which can be found by clicking here.

More sites about cloth, material, fabric:
The Thread Project: One World, One Cloth

World Peace Cloth

Textile Research Journal

Textile Exchange

Spontaneity & Creativity

Sometimes creativity is sparked from moments of inspiration, sometimes creativity is a measured process – reworking an idea until something magical happens.

Sometimes we set out to achieve small goals and in doing so become open to a world of possibilities. Sometimes it takes a significant life event to alter the course of our path.

If you are looking to pick up a thread of spontaneity to weave into your life then there is an option – Fifty Random Challenges in a Month or FiRaChaMo for short. This is a new social networking site, looking for “fearless” companions who are willing to try 50 random things in the month of January – from eating a blade of grass to drawing a portrait of a random person. What I like most about this site, is the idea of doing spontaneous or random things in our every day life. It also gives us the excuse to do something that we might have always longed to do, but never get around to doing it. Members can offer suggestions as to what they might like to add to the list of things to do …