Through the Storm
For the people we encounter on our journey
Taking to the sky upon wings of freedom,
Adrift with worriless minds.
Freedom follows me eternal,
Guided only by the winds behind me.
Taking flight over vast distances,
Laying sight upon things unknown.
Expanding greatly the sphere of my existence,
Insignificance of my own means nothing.
Taking into a tempest,
My flight becomes chaotic though on course.
This path I've chosen from among the winds,
No simple windstorm may divert me.
Glancing suddenly into the eye of it all,
I find myself awe'd by what lay before I.
Here I still find that my wings are unrestricted,
But Unwanted I shall throw myself upon the gale again.
Braving the fierce winds of its existence,
Fighting only as much as need be.
Drifting lazily upon the gusts,
Wishing to simply let things be as they should.
While I am now free of the storm,
It was my choice to enter into the encounter.
Its calm invitation had not gone unanswered,
The call had been filled.
I regret nothing,
The storm mighty and blowing behind myself.
I hope simply that I have left even the slightest of marks upon it.
And with the same hope, I venture forward into the unknown before me.
Open my wings to the future,
My freedom just behind me.
Strength granted from the storms.
Tomorrow will soon be today,
Calm skies embrace my form,
Dreams flitting about the zephyr.
Memories of storm and of calm.
I am keen to the future before my ambitions.
12 December 2011
6 December 2011
Into the Night
Into the Night - for which we will wander for the ages.
And so as the last star falls,
Darkness comes to chain me.
I cannot change the steps already taken,
Silence consumes the world.
And still action has escaped me.
The world falls into ruin.
All that would have meaning,
Slowly fades to black.
But I must journey on.
It is her end though.
That last star to fall,
Shattering all the hope reserved.
The path crumbles underfoot.
And I fall to my knees.
Rage consumes eternity.
The first to fall before me,
Are those that took her from me.
And with their ending,
Resistance builds against my fury.
Only to see it grow all the more extreme.
Those worthy of it,
Will not be spared of my malevolence.
Each will be torn asunder.
The world shall know of my wrath.
With a terrible legacy in tow,
I will rise into the dark night.
Forge my fury into the heart of a new star.
And cast my light out into the beyond.
So that none must fall to the same fate.
And so as the last star falls,
Darkness comes to chain me.
I cannot change the steps already taken,
Silence consumes the world.
And still action has escaped me.
The world falls into ruin.
All that would have meaning,
Slowly fades to black.
But I must journey on.
It is her end though.
That last star to fall,
Shattering all the hope reserved.
The path crumbles underfoot.
And I fall to my knees.
Rage consumes eternity.
The first to fall before me,
Are those that took her from me.
And with their ending,
Resistance builds against my fury.
Only to see it grow all the more extreme.
Those worthy of it,
Will not be spared of my malevolence.
Each will be torn asunder.
The world shall know of my wrath.
With a terrible legacy in tow,
I will rise into the dark night.
Forge my fury into the heart of a new star.
And cast my light out into the beyond.
So that none must fall to the same fate.
5 December 2011
Creativity and writers block.
All across this vast world we are creating for ourselves. Where content is produced by people, most often in webcomics or blogs, writers block is mentioned at least once. An inescapable wall surrounding the creativity we know is there to be had but otherwise unavailable. I am at least able to write at my own leisure both to my own detriment and my own boon. While I don't have to answer to anyone or any deadlines for work done, I also have no such paycheck resulting from what I create to sustain my life. Writers block isn't an enemy I have, or at least, It is not one I yet have. But I am sure one day I'll face off with it. Though that is not a terribly true statement to make.
Untill somewhat recently, I had not created anything worth sharing, let alone created anything to share. Years even, of a creative void. I suppose I had no reason to be creating, which in itself is a false statement. I will always have a reason to create. I live, I can, and I have within my grasp the tools to create an entire world around me, should I put the effort into the work. The imagination has, as long as you let it, no real boundries but the ones have built around it. While some things should never be crossed, other things should have more attention than received. And so one should venture out into the vastness of the worlds we can create, share them with those who would take part, and arrive at the end of ones journey feeling more. More what... is up to the reader to decide.
The world that I create, cannot always be the one that a reader will implant themselves. It should be the writers goal to share the world and all of its intricacies with the reader, but it is often easy to get lost between the world of ones own and the world of anothers. Details may forever remain privy to the creator who is sharing the world with another, and have every intention to share it with the reader of ones work, but either for manipulator purposes or even simply forgetting, leave out details. It is the readers privaledge to do with all given information what he will, but with even some small details missing, can go into an entirely different world than what the writer has imagined. I cannot see this as a bad thing, we all see the world differently already. The world that I live in every day is the same world that everyone else exists. But it is also mine alone, to be shared with whom I chose.
And sharing a world with another is always fraught with difficulties. Different lives lived causes us to be as uniquely similar as we will be different. We could take in the exact same information about any object and come to a different conclusion of its worth based on even preference alone. It's this chaotic meshing of worlds that colors the gray. Conversation builds upon the differences and the similarities. This is a driving force for people to talk about their experiences. We cannot live everything do it all. But we can always share what we have done or experienced with others, even if its just a world drawn up in the mind of the another.
The world will grow, and expand. With every soul added to the circle within a world exists, more color is added to the pool. Perhaps not all of it is entirely desired to be there. But without something to create contrast as world will grow stale and die out. It is the people that drive creativity, even if they do not know it. For why create, to only enjoy the creation yourself?
Why build the tower Babel only to sit upon its apex alone. Witness the world below, and share in its marvels with all you would come across. Share its glory with others, that they would be inspired to climb to the top and see it for themself.
I create for myself. I create to share with those that would enjoy to experience the world that I see. I cannot promise that my world will always be inviting or that it will be hostile. It will be what it is.
Creativity is a hard thing to describe while writers block seems entirely more solid, both in its name and the feeling the words impose upon its meaning. But in its essence, creativity is and can be anything. Writers block, is forever a block, static in its existance.
So make your choice. Move it. Carve your way through. Build a path over or dig under it. Creativity will provide the tools if you call upon it. Writers block, can only stop you if you let it.
And if you have actually read this poorly structured wall of text, congratulations on sticking in there with my meandering thoughts. And untill next time.
Build em taller.
Untill somewhat recently, I had not created anything worth sharing, let alone created anything to share. Years even, of a creative void. I suppose I had no reason to be creating, which in itself is a false statement. I will always have a reason to create. I live, I can, and I have within my grasp the tools to create an entire world around me, should I put the effort into the work. The imagination has, as long as you let it, no real boundries but the ones have built around it. While some things should never be crossed, other things should have more attention than received. And so one should venture out into the vastness of the worlds we can create, share them with those who would take part, and arrive at the end of ones journey feeling more. More what... is up to the reader to decide.
The world that I create, cannot always be the one that a reader will implant themselves. It should be the writers goal to share the world and all of its intricacies with the reader, but it is often easy to get lost between the world of ones own and the world of anothers. Details may forever remain privy to the creator who is sharing the world with another, and have every intention to share it with the reader of ones work, but either for manipulator purposes or even simply forgetting, leave out details. It is the readers privaledge to do with all given information what he will, but with even some small details missing, can go into an entirely different world than what the writer has imagined. I cannot see this as a bad thing, we all see the world differently already. The world that I live in every day is the same world that everyone else exists. But it is also mine alone, to be shared with whom I chose.
And sharing a world with another is always fraught with difficulties. Different lives lived causes us to be as uniquely similar as we will be different. We could take in the exact same information about any object and come to a different conclusion of its worth based on even preference alone. It's this chaotic meshing of worlds that colors the gray. Conversation builds upon the differences and the similarities. This is a driving force for people to talk about their experiences. We cannot live everything do it all. But we can always share what we have done or experienced with others, even if its just a world drawn up in the mind of the another.
The world will grow, and expand. With every soul added to the circle within a world exists, more color is added to the pool. Perhaps not all of it is entirely desired to be there. But without something to create contrast as world will grow stale and die out. It is the people that drive creativity, even if they do not know it. For why create, to only enjoy the creation yourself?
Why build the tower Babel only to sit upon its apex alone. Witness the world below, and share in its marvels with all you would come across. Share its glory with others, that they would be inspired to climb to the top and see it for themself.
I create for myself. I create to share with those that would enjoy to experience the world that I see. I cannot promise that my world will always be inviting or that it will be hostile. It will be what it is.
Creativity is a hard thing to describe while writers block seems entirely more solid, both in its name and the feeling the words impose upon its meaning. But in its essence, creativity is and can be anything. Writers block, is forever a block, static in its existance.
So make your choice. Move it. Carve your way through. Build a path over or dig under it. Creativity will provide the tools if you call upon it. Writers block, can only stop you if you let it.
And if you have actually read this poorly structured wall of text, congratulations on sticking in there with my meandering thoughts. And untill next time.
Build em taller.
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