Artistic Spirit – “Expandise”

(art by @billblake1757)

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My thoughts are flowing out of me. The need to produce. The drive to recycle and reuse. Art. Make art. Yet, most of my time is spent being a robot. Not humanised. I work my art around my free time – yes. It often means I write a few lines when I go to the shops for coffee. That means squeezing it in between practical chores, socialising, feeding other need-areas of my life. It tends to result in a lack of sleep, lack of socialising and chores overwhelm (due to a lack of tackling).

Poetry. It has become a portal to art. Inside my well I go and write. Alongside poetry, which I utilise as a journalling, healing and self inquiry tool, my creative arms have stretched to visual art. After all, we have 6 senses, we must use them.

Music was my main art passion for many years. I was born and raised in a household where music was played as a bonding act. Dad would play the guitar and mom, the piano. I would sing. It was special. My sisters did not really participate. Perhaps, they never felt included, I wonder? OK, this is not the topic of discussion (*makes mental note to reflect on, later). I have a musical project with two of my mates. It is an incredible activity and it is my favourite time during the week. I only wish we had more time to work on this, so the project is going slow. Nonetheless, we have fun and this is gold, in the rat racing days.

But now? I am ready to do more. Curiosity and the exploration bug tell me this is not enough. Drawing is an art form I have been contemplating. I’ve decided I will do it, anonymously. I will create a persona and this time I will do it differently than with how I work on my poetry and music. It will be a solo journey. And I will not let it connect to Luiza/DivaState/Alice. The only purpose of it is to draw. Express and create. Work on the unconscious and what it brings. I’m curious to see…

I am starting on this journey today. Let creativity spill more and more ink, pixels, cartridges, whatever it may be.

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Virtual Harakiri

 

 

 

You’ve left this digital space
It seems, not only I, devastate.
This realm of virtual overwhelm
Where you used to co-create.
I mourn a death, like they do in old time sakes.
Only, the information is not delayed.
This notification, is heralded in a fast pace.
You can see it, straight away.
Like a slap in the face,
A goodbye note that is left
And cannot be retraced.
You are now, more gone than before.
There’s no more peeping through window blinds, no reason for.
When the person exits your virtual world
You cannot knock on their door anymore.
They leave a blank space in your analogue globe.
Like an empty house, where memories are forlorn.
You type and retype and seek for a shortcut
But you only waste time,
Trepidation waves in the gut.
Suddenly, you have a hole, between your chest and bones.
Then, you learn
Against death, there’s no winning.
Let the questions burn
Ignorance keeps your head from spinning!

 

Edinburgh Haze

Edinburgh Haze

My poetry got wings, it landed in Edinburgh City
It’s cold, breezy and dark, it’s not, yet, even evening.
Where are these men with tartan skirts?
I want to bag their pipes, they want their bagpipes to be heard.
I want to see the Loch Ness erupt.
From swampy waters, undeterred.

So far it seems quite different, from where my spirit lives.
I’m reminded of this partition, when I need to pay any fees
And when listening to quirky accents, as Scottish people speak.

The modern toppled buildings, reminders of my previous life
Old structures elevate the neck, causing shimmers in the eye.
The novelty of all, that can be absorbed
Is captured by these optic nerves.
Be it windows, doors, graffiti.
Nothing here goes unobserved.
A new city tastes like the freshness
Of coffee smell on a morning rise.
As Nan Sheperd once said: “It’s a grand thing to get leave to live”,
So I’ll follow her advice.
I enjoy my holiday in the land of brave hearts.
Hearing kingfishers sing, as the moon makes her depart.

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Edinburgh is a magical city and many birds sing through out the night!

7wordstory prompt!

This is why poetry and storytelling is so important! It helps us understand its healing powers. Through relating to what has been written, we learn, we are not alone. Those feelings are felt by many, those experiences are lived by many. We feel understood, we feel connected. We feel, as one.
I was asked to come up with a #7wordstory. I could not decide on which one to go with, so I wrote 2, on the same theme… hope I am not cheating haha.
Picture taken at Glasgow Necropolis, by myself.

Ego Kill

(Picture taken in Edinburgh).

Nothing like the first day of the year for an ego killing. Release from old notions that surround your concept of self. Rise again, a new I/You.
A growth mindset is far better than a fixed one. Do it!
Happy 2018 to all! Thanks for being here and for connecting with me. It has filled a gap in my life, genuinely. 💫

Tagged for an #8wordstory using prompt #tomorrow!