Poetry Thursday - "Memory"

~Memory~

And you wait, await the one thing
that will infinitely increase your life;
the gigantic, the stupendous,
the awakening of stones,
depths turned round toward you.

The volumes in brown and gold
flicker dimly on the bookshelves;
and you think of lands traveled through,
of paintings, of the garments
of women found and lost.

And then all at once you know: that was it.
You rise, and there stands before you
the fear and prayer and shape
of a vanished year.

-Rainer Maria Rilke-


How often we live in the midst of memories. Enfolded in the moments of beauty that once graced our lives, entangled in the moments of chaos, reliving what has already been lived. We walk through our days, believing that we are living, believing that we are experiencing the richness of the sunset and the purity of the white wildflowers. Are we truly enjoying the fullness of the moment, or simply following the slice’s of life’s beauty down well-trodden paths?

How often we all awaken, only to realize that so many days, too many days, have passed. We choose to dwell in moments lost or to cast our hope upon the illusory promise of tomorrows. We wait, believing that what we want, or what we’ve had, is the illuminating experience that will define the true essence of our being.

How seldom we allow ourselves the luxury of THIS moment. May we all embrace the present and may we stop finding ourselves looking back, wondering where the time has gone. For the truth is…the time is NOW!

Creativity Exchange Info

Info on Creativity Exchange

I have received several comments of interest regarding the creativity exchange. What a great experience this shall be for all of us! I am so excited, and ready to begin sending out information to all those interested. However, I have still yet to receive information from some of you.

At the present time, there are some people interested in exchanging creative pieces via email and some interested in exchanging creative pieces via “snail mail”. Please email me and notify me which modality is your own preference so that I may include this information in my email to all. And don’t forget to include your information in the email:)

I will draw names to decide who each of us with exchange creative pieces with. I am thinking that I can draw two names for each person…this way, each person will make 2 pieces to send and will receive 2 pieces, though it may not be with the same people. Does this make sense to all? (And much thanks to Liz Elayne and Jessie for their helpful suggestions…you guys are awesome!)

Regarding your creative pieces, just let your creativity emerge in whatever fashion it may. Whether it be writing or painting, collages or photographs, drawings or mixed media…have fun with it and let your own soul dance with abandon. Thank you all for your interest…I am so excited and cannot wait to begin creating!

Love and hugs,
Tara Dawn
taradawn80@yahoo.com

creativity and fear

Lately I have found myself filled with creative energy, ideas being born in my head and cravings to manifest them into reality. And yet I have been allowing the ideas to stay hidden, to remain within my mind and soul. At first, I excused my lack of actually working on these ideas as a result of “too little time”. And indeed, my daily life has been quite busy. But I have also realized that it is more than just “not enough time”. What else is it that is holding me back? What else is keeping my creative longings at bay, nestled within the comfort of my imagination?

As a first step, I went to the art supply store today and stocked up on a few items to assist me in my creative struggle. Once home, I opened my new dry media pad, my pastels sitting on one side, my charcoal on the other. And I froze. My hand was literally shaking as I attempted first to draw the outline of a face. Immediately, I was repulsed by the obvious distortions of the shape and flipped to a new page. On that page, I was able to draw some very misshapen, strange-looking trees and a green background, and then I laughed at the ridiculousness of the picture. It looked like the school art assignment of an eight-year-old. And it was then that I realized how deeply my fear is embedded.

To put it simply, I am afraid. I am afraid that what I create will not be “good enough”, that it will look silly or contrived or immature. I am afraid that the images in my head will never be brought to reality, that my inner creations will be forever locked within the barriers of my imagination. I am afraid because I want so desperately to be “good”, and I am a far way off from “good” right now. And more than any of that, because of all of that, I am afraid that I will allow paralysis to stop me from creating.

I’ve always told others that awareness is the first step of healing or overcoming any obstacle within ourselves. And yet, I wonder: will the awareness of my fear propel me forward or will it keep me from releasing my creative energy into the world?

Poetry Thursday - The Waterfall by Mary Oliver

“The Waterfall” – for May Swenson
~by Mary Oliver~

For all the said,
I could not see the waterfall
until I came and saw the water falling,
its lace legs and its womanly arms sheeting down,

while something howled like thunder,
over the rocks,
all day and all night –
unspooling

like ribbons made of snow,
or god’s white hair.
At any distance
it fell without a break or seam, and slowly, a simple

preponderance –
a fall of flowers – and truly it seemed
surprised by the unexpected kindness of the air and
light-hearted to be

flying at last.
Gravity is a fact everybody
knows about.
It is always underfoot,

like a summons,
gravel-backed and mossy,
in every beetled basin –
and imagination –

that striver,
that third eye –
can do a lot but
hardly everything. The white, scrolled

wings of the tumbling water
I never could have
imagined. And maybe there will be,
after all,

some slack and perfectly balanced
blind and rough peace, finally,
in the deep and green and utterly motionless pools after all that
falling?

creativity exchange

So many of you have written, at some point, about your own “creative space”. I think it is so important for all of us to have such a space, a place that is ours alone, a place that fosters our creativity. Whether it be a room, or a corner of room, this “space” is essential for all of us. And so I have decided that I must create this “space” in my new home. Though my big move is still a few weeks away, I am already planning and creating in my mind. As I was thinking about inspirational pieces and mementos that I would like to adorn my “space”, I realized that so much of my inspiration comes from so many of you. The words, the sketches, the collages, the paintings, the postcards, the journal clippings…they all inspire me. These beautiful pieces of each of you cause me to think more, to feel more, and to create more myself. And so, I am wondering if any of you would be interested in participating in a creativity exchange. Whether it is an original piece of poetry or prose, a beloved quote, a picture of yourself, a tiny drawing or collage or painting…anything that is a symbol of you, and the roaring creativity that lives within you. If any of you are interested in exchanging personal pieces of creativity with each other, please send me an email and I will be happy to compose a list of names and addresses to send out to all.
May our creativity continue to bloom and grow, and may we find daily inspiration to continue nourishing this creativity!

My email is: taradawn80@yahoo.com

what i want...inspired by Meg

Meg (More to Me) wrote an incredibly liberating and inspiring post recently on discovering and accepting those things that we WANT for ourselves. Indeed, it can be so utterly difficult to decipher what it is we want for ourselves from what we want for others or what others want for us. We become timid in our asking, we shrink behind the person beside us, we go through the motions saying “sure, that’s what I want” when perhaps that is simply what the person beside us wants. And so, I believe it is important for each one of us to truly think about this…to think about what we want for ourselves and to have the courage to speak that truth, to bellow it from the mountaintops, to roar with courage (or that cackling laugh, Meg) and proclaim “I WANT…”. It is important that we each become aware of what we want for ourselves and then proceed on our journeys to make these wants, these dreams, come true.

I WANT…
freedom…to sing with abandon and passion…to dance like no one is watching…to paint…to draw…to write…to let go of guilt…to forgive myself and to forgive others…to greet the world with smiles each day….to make a difference…to inspire others…to find positive in every moment…to climb mountains…to read millions of books…to write a book…to find inner peace…to become okay with silence…to travel the world…to hold orphans in my lap and show them a love they have never known…to capture the beauty of the world in pictures…to become a more organized and tidy person…to push past my fears of rejection and criticism…to find my May Sarton book that is somewhere within my apartment…to plant a garden…to learn to cook…to become a doctor…to read all of Anais Nin’s journals…to let go of anger…to become closer to God…to stop and smell the roses (or tulips or daffodils or whatever kind of flowers happen to be there)…to foster my friendships…to learn to enjoy exercise…to be okay without perfectionism…to live…to laugh…to love…

There is so much more I could write here…but this is a list that shall continue to grow, to expand. Above all, I want to experience life and deeply and authentically and beautifully as I possibly can. I want to wake up each morning and be grateful for one more day on this earth. And when I take my last breath, I want to know that I have lived a fulfilling life.

the value of books

I have loved books for as long as I can remember. I have been told that I loved books even before the time that I can remember. My mama used to tell me the story of the summer when I was three years old and how I participated in the local library’s annual summer reading program. Though I could not yet read the books myself, I supposedly convinced my mother to check out some 500 books that summer and read them to me, thus winning an award for the most read books and having my three-year-old baby face posted in the community newspaper. But it was not the external reward that drove me then. It was the books, the colorful pictures, the sound of the beautiful words strung together as my mother held my miniature body in her lap and the words lovingly flowed from her lips. It was the sense of peace and comfort I must have felt as my mama rocked me in the old rocking chair and I handed her book after book after book. Even before that time, she has told me about my love of books. When I was only a year old, one of my favorite items was supposedly a green cloth baby book, complete with big pictures and one word per page. My mama believes this is how I first learned to speak. As she would point to the picture of a dog and say “dog”, I would bark. And so the birth of my love for books began.

And so it comes as no surprise that I still love books. I love the wrinkled, weathered paperbacks that were once someone else’s treasures and have been revived to life through my purchases from used book stores and estate sales and library sales. I love the yellowed pages of these ancient relics and the permanence of the printed words. I love the loose binding of my favorite novels, read and reread and cherished as if they were rare and precious diamonds. I love the strong solidity of my hardbacks, their covers of emerald green and brilliant blue and crimson red calling to me from their loving homes upon the shelves that line my world. I love the pictures on the covers, the symbolism, the fonts of Old English or Verdana gracing the glossy or faded spines. I love the dedications on the first pages and the author’s biographical information on the last pages. I love the sound of the words now as they roll off my tongue, blanketed in love and beauty and value.

Once I learned to read, I often spent hour after hour in my bedroom reading aloud. I read to the walls and the stuffed animals. And later, as I got older and moved out on my own, I would take a chair into the backyard and read aloud to the flowers and the birds and the insects. And still now, I read aloud. I read aloud to myself. I read aloud to hear the words, to revel in the beauty and the warmth and the comfort, to feel the intensity of the lives inside the pages and to feel the intensity of my own life in this world.

I am surrounded by books and these books are my history, my present, and perhaps a stepping stone to my future. Through these books, I have learned the values of many lives and many loves. Through these books, I have found the courage and the strength to embrace my own life fully and my own loves completely.

being thankful

My foggy head has finally begun to clear after days of excruciating pressure and dizziness. The sky’s brilliant blue was a bit brighter this morning and the wind felt refreshing upon my face. The tiny blooms of sunshine yellow and vibrant purple seemed to take center stage in their dance with the array of white and periwinkle buds. With a newfound (or refound) energy and a sense of excited hope, I opened my arms and embraced the world today. Of course, I needed an extra long nap after my adventures with the world. But no complaints…after widely opened eyes that saw pieces of beauty on every corner, I was happy to close my tired lids and retire to a dreamfilled slumber.
And now here I am, sitting before this blank screen and wondering what it is that I am being urged to write tonight. I feel a need, a desire, to write. But I cannot quite touch the very core of my rambling thoughts. In reality, I am filled with a sense of gratitude, a feeling of returning serenity and diffuse satisfaction. And so, I will send my gratitudes out into this world.

Today, I am thankful for:
-feeling better physically and having more energy
-the wonderful female friendships I have (both old and new)
-the opportunities I have been afforded to pursue my dreams (at least some
of them) and the courage and confidence I have gained through this pursuit
-my incredibly supportive and encouraging parents and sister
-my boyfriend that is so open in his communication with me and always eager to
work towards greater growth, both within himself and within our relationship
-my soon-to-be new home, with its stone fireplace to warm me in the winter and
the blooming yellow flowers that are already adorning the expansive back yard
-the inspiration I get from reading the words of such brilliant and talented writers
(both through books and the world of blogging)
-the enormous piece of artwork I purchased a few weeks ago, that sings to me each
day of raw honesty and unique beauty
-the emerald green of the river’s waters today as I passed across it on yet another
journey (the Chattahoochee’s waters are typically brown)
-the hopes and dreams I have within me…for tomorrow and the next day and the
next month and the next year and…
-the feeling of being alive

What are you thankful for today?

tagging threes

Three things you wish for (just for you):

1. I wish that I didn’t have chronic physical ailments (and I feel guilty for even saying that, because I know there are so many others out there in this world that have much worse physical problems/illnesses than mine…BUT this is supposed to be wishes just for me, so there it is).
2. I wish I had enough money to pay for my doctorate program for the next 4 years, to avoid going into 100+ grand of debt.
3. I wish I didn’t have so much anxiety and so many fears.

Three things you would do to/for you if there was no one to judge you (or if you had the guts.)

1. Get a tattoo (my mama would be VERY disappointed…and I know, it is my body and my life, but I do love and respect my mama very much, so for now, no tattoos…though I may get the guts for this one day, so here’s your warning sweet mama).
2. Write the autobiograhpy of my life and try to publish it (this is something I would love to do, but fear keeps me from doing it at this point, at least while the grandparents are still living).
3. Have nude photographs taken (this would be for me, and me only…I just think that women have so many issues with their bodies, and what better way to embrace the beauty of one’s own body than by having the courage to bare it in front of a camera…and NO mama and daddy, this does NOT mean I want to be a porn star:)

Three bad habits you have.

1. smoking
2. my addiction to the sun
3. I am a total slob…though I am making plans for change with this one (and hopefully will find the willpower to change the other two before long…we shall see).

Three insecurities you feel:

1. That I will disappoint others, as I have often done (I’m working on this as well…trying to learn how to be okay with other’s disappointments in me and focusing on meeting my own expectations for myself instead).
2. That I will not be able to touch others’ lives in the inspiring and healing way that I want.
3. That I'm not good enough to be a "Writer." – I’m stealing this one from Meg.

Three talents/skills you wish you had:

1. ART, ART, ART…I wish I could draw, paint, sculpt, make beautiful collages, etc. (I took art lessons when I was about 10 years old and actually did some decent work…perhaps the ability is in there somewhere and I just have kept it in hiding? I hope this is the case…my soul is filled with artistic and creative drives…now if only I can make the drives manifest).
2. The ability to play the guitar (I also attempted guitar lessons once, but I really sucked and never could manage to make my tiny hands make any beautiful music).
3. The willpower to live a really healthy life (i.e. exercising regularly, stopping smoking, eating organic, cooking healthy meals, etc…I’m not really sure if you could call this a talent or skill, but I certainly believe it takes talent to live this way).

Three things you would do if you had more time:

1. Write more.
2. Teach myself to sew.
3. Spend more time with my friends and family.

Three things you would do if you had enough money:

1. Stop working so much (I would still work, but maybe I would stop until I could finish school…or at least only work one job).
2. Pay off all my debt and give my parents enough money to happily retire (though I’m sure they would continue working…most of my family has some workaholic tendencies:)
3. Travel, travel, travel…to every state in the USA (that I haven’t already seen, and some I have), to Italy, to England, to Africa, to France, to Spain, to Greece, any many other places. And of course, I would want to come see all of my wonderful blogging friends during my travels!

Three things that bring you peace and relaxation:

1. the beach
2. the mountains
3. reading and writing (sorry, this is actually 4)

Three things that spark your creativity:
1. Reading
2. Nature
3. Art and Music (I know…it’s 4 again)

Three people I'm tagging:

I know some people really don’t like to do these tags, so feel free to accept the invitation or not. I am tagging Tammy, Baylor, and Frankie.

inspiration can be found...anywhere

Inspiration can be found anywhere, if only you allow yourself to find it.

As a small girl, I found inspiration amidst the solitude of my pink bedroom. With the door shut and locked, my imagination ran free, through fields of yellow and white wildflowers and into the open arms of a beautiful dark-haired man who would one day be my husband. I found inspiration as I built a cardboard box house with painted curtains for my beloved black and white kitten. I found inspiration in the stacks of paperback books carefully arranged along the bedside table and dark carpet. Inside my world, and inside my head, I found inspiration.

As a teenager, I found inspiration among my disappointments and shattered innocence. Through altered states of consciousness and in the lyrical voice of Bob Dylan, I found inspiration. Gazing intensely under black lights at the florescent lizards on a Jim Morrison poster, I found inspiration, and dark poetry flowed freely from my pen and lips. As I read the story of Holden Caulfield’s life and feared that I might one day be emblazoned by a scarlet letter of my own, I found inspiration. Inside my confusion, and inside my blindness, I found inspiration.

As an adult, I have found inspiration in life’s emblematic shadows and rays of sunlight. Four years ago, I played my antique piano by candlelight and wrote letters of regret in the early morning hours. As words of sorrow and shame graced the page, so was I graced by inspiration. Three years ago, my office was filled with children’s books and play-doh. Through the tight morning hugs of a four year old boy and the heart-wrenching tales of a fourteen year old girl’s attempted suicide, I found inspiration. Two years ago, I lit patchouli candles and sang along with the ballads of Sarah McLaughlin, finding inspiration as I sorted through the heartbreak of a failed marriage and the end of my carefree youth. Last year, I flipped my life upside down and inside out, exploring the depths of myself and the potentials of my life. As I found the courage to embrace my dreams, I found inspiration. And now, here I am, still walking through this world of broken hearts and momentous fears, and yet I am finding inspiration. In the beauty of the river’s changing currents and the majestic heights of smoky mountains, I am finding inspiration. In the words of feminist scholars and romantic poets, through the creativity of world-renowned artists and the talented brilliance of new-found friends, I am finding inspiration. As I shop for used treasures of another person’s life, as I inhale the breathless honesty of my own hidden past…as I watch a man dancing with abandon in the open air of this world, as I let my own spirit dance with the changing melodies…I am finding inspiration.

Inspiration can be found anywhere, if only you allow yourself to find it.