When things are rough, [creativity/ingenuity/resourcefulness] will keep you afloat. In times of calm, it will allow you to fly.
via Musings — Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha
Love the image, love the message, and love the way it’s composed. We need more of this on the internet my friend.
And I’m reminded of the words of our forefathers
The great Emerson, Thoreau, London
The sermon of resourcefulness
And we could all be Robinson Crusoes
Drifting away on tropical clouds
High above the scorned earth
I usually describe my process as working on new material, hitting a wall, then working through a self-critical phase, and then the break through. The moment when I remember why writing was the choice I made.
It makes considering the process of change. One identifies a problem, as one thinks through the process to change that problem, as one receives more feedback (more practice in their craft) they begin to understand how to work the feedback into their work, and they change.
On paper it’s simple, but I surprise myself each day over how easy it is to lose perspective.
Squeezing inches closer
A nice hazel
I can’t stand it
When the raspberry jelly
Sticks to my fingers
We’re scraping the jelly off
Pureed to the center
Of my favorite syringe
Oozing belly button puss
On robust tum
and we never gave it
They’re using my insides as bungee cord
To see how close they can get to hitting the ground
The intestines unravel
Bondage before they throw me overboard
And I sink to my death
Curious creature cast in darkness
Fear not, you have the lessons that can’t be taught
The land is the classroom for the soul
In the sun, snow, frost, in the cold
Life lessons, natural lectures, and lavish, love in the heart of the land.
Hundreds of hours
Staring at Mona Lisa’s kinky smile
Waiting for a peak up her dress
And a flash of skin
And the forever shifting ground beneath my feet
Saturated pine needles
And the sweat staining the shirt under my pack
No sacrifice is too great,
No offer is too esteemed
For purity is green
Not with jealousy
But overwhelmed with life
And God’s creation
If you want to belittle it
to their three lettered word
I live in the back of his mouth
Somewhere in his navel
Behind the yellowing teeth
And the endless assault
I live somewhere behind all of the work
All of the writing
All of the pain and the misdirected hate.