Often I am rooted, but I flow

Fate is a foe, and the wind never comes my direction.
These red flowers fly before this hand even touched them
scattered like in my own dreams—
I hardly notice ‘em.
Flowers that epitomize fire.

Far apart, distance takes it slow
And in the gusty time of year—
Seldom do I meet you
Not where I have first seen you
Not in the midst where I left.

Once in every two years, I plant myself
From where the wind and the red flowers meet,
Often I am rooted, but I flow.

–scribbled with Mrs Dalloway in mind, 12/29/12

Christmas Lights

Sometimes we all need anchoring, an oasis in a time of flux. 2013 will, for better or worse, herald some serious change and we will not be in the same situation by Christmas time, but this year things were normal in that whilst change sat over the horizon the speed with which we were getting there had yet to quicken.

Morning dew reminds me of Grateful Dead

…yes, the American Rock band during the late 60s. They have this song called “Morning Dew” which basically talks about ephemeral beauty or those great moments in our lives that quickly fade, like morning dew drops that you find early in the morning.

I have this thing for dew drops. I don’t know why but I really find them the most exciting subject for photography. If I were to hold a photo exhibit right now (which is far from being a reality, mind you), I’d probably have dew drops as my main theme.

When Baron told me about putting up a collaborative blog for our OWN creative purposes, I really thought he was bluffing. Some strategic ploy to get me back to blogging. I haven’t been blogging for awhile. It was a shame though that I have lost contact with some of the great bloggers I knew way back. Some of them (or at least those that I religiously followed) were not that active as well anymore. Anyhow, cutting the story short, it was Baron’s fault that I am back to blogging right now. He’d probably know I’ve always wanted an outlet. Facebook is such a killjoy. Everyone (or at least) most of them knew me there. I just hate being judged by what I write. I have always considered myself a fictionist, more or less. A friend of mine thinks otherwise. But I stand by what I believe. I am 85% fiction.

Anyway, I wanted my first entry to be something that I really liked. Like the morning dew. I could tell a whole story on it, or a poem I have recently wrote about it but I guess there’s not much space for it right now. I will just reserve it in my next entry. ###

The First Step

We all have to start somewhere.  Sometimes it’s chance encounters, sometimes old friends, sometimes a combination of all.  Creativity attracts but doesn’t always produce unless fired to.  We all need kindling now and again and sometimes someone else needs to strike the match.

Yeah?