Day three into the 30 days of writing/art, still determined to solidify this habit, though it was a bit of a struggle today. A migraine had started late last night and hung on with vigor throughout the day, threatening to thwart my efforts at this uphill climb towards truth versus dare me to shut up forever!
I rallied, however, surprised that any potential slips on the old Freudian rug became turn of phrase instead, or mixed themselves up with metaphors. Around and 'round it went and gradually some torn bits of paper got involved. The final collage piece, I dedicated to my daughter as it so OUT-LOUD spoke to a recent personal triumph she’s had, mind over heartfelt matters.
With some cavorting and word sorting, I was able to drag some old words from the depths of 2005 in almost the same subject matter as the art, to compare and contrast and rework for the day’s writing portion of the blog. Overall, not a bad morning’s work for a gal whose head consisted of vinegar and brown paper mulch, I have to say.
So, first the words, then the collage, followed by my plan of attack for the remaining 30 days and beyond.
… It’s like trying to kill the beast when I’m feeling so beastly, like the beast is me. I don’t know how to get rid of the “beast” and keep the “ly,” a befitting suffix for far better words like lovely, creatively, joyfully and happily ever-after-ishly.
At times, I feel like the wicked queen because I want some one else’s heart in a box, so I can have mine back, wholly sound.
Everyone should suffer and no one should suffer, but there was suffering. I’ve been pissed off since the very beginning, but that never mattered, and that still hurts, rubs my insides out. I’ve hidden that pain away, but it threatens now, an aching breaking Pandora’s box. If it ever flies open, the knives will fly everywhere. I will bleed from the inside out. Then what?!?!?
But, I can’t think of that just now. ‘Going to do laundry, drive the car, get the groceries, worry about bills and dinner, spend time with the girls, the trusting dog and purring cats, look over my freshly shampooed carpets, make another pot of coffee, look forward to/not through my upcoming work pile/deadlines, sleep again in the pink light of yet another snowfall, wake, watch the moon leave the morning sky, try again tomorrow.
Love my self through this.
THE COLLAGE: (dedicated to my daugther, Alice)
For future blogs I'll be using the following book for my writing prompt-ish portions.
The 3A.M. EPIPHANY Uncommon Writing Exercises That Transform Your Fiction By Brian Kiteley
--- I'm not sure if I'm going to do the prompts in order (there are at least 200 of them in the book), or if I'll open the book and choose one daily by random. --And there is always the chance that I'll get up tomorrow, still with a headache, feel really pressured about this 30-day double dare blog crap, throw my lap top, my glue stick and Brian Kiteley's book off the back deck into the woods and call it quits ... I mean, life does have that prognosis is so fucking guarded quality to it. However, it's my ongoing hope that I'll shoot the moon!