Written By Me

Fandango’s Provocative Question#109

How many hours, on average, do you spend per day (or per week) on blogging-related activities? And, what do you think you might do with your time if you didn’t spend it on those blogging-related activities?

” Moth Dress ” by Louise Richardson
Photographer Unknown

When I am not writing/blogging/working on an idea:

I am walking my dog, working on art projects ( I really really suck at that but it’s fun ) like model building or drawing or photography ( I suck at that too, but again it’s fun ). I also like to watch ghost stories or suspense movies on Netflix.

My favorite, by far, are the movies about the supernatural  from India- OMG they know how to tell great ghost stories over there! I also enjoy Japanese movies about ghosts and curses because I’m familiar with those ( my Mom grew up in Hawaii and she and her family LOVED to tell ghost stories) and stories about Japanese ghosts and demons are bone chillers.

Sometimes I just sit back and listen to music- random tracks- because when I hear music and sort of clear my head, random images pop up and sometimes those images are so weird that I get stories from them.

So when I am not actually writing, or working on an idea I suppose it’s easy to see I’m putting myself in places where I get ideas for things to write about. It’s all I ever really do.

As you can see on my blog, sometimes I come up with some great stuff and sometimes it might not be as great as other times.

But I feel about my writing the way people feel about their babies.

You might think your baby adorable but other people will look at a baby and see something that looks like a smooshy naked monkey that smells like milk and pee.

That’s how I look at my writing- it’s like a smelly, adorable smooshy thing that smells like milk and pee.

But I love it all the same and I’m proud of it, even though it isn’t perfect, or even sort of perfect.

After all, I put a lot of time and devotion into making all of it happen and that makes me feel like I am making my life count for something worthwhile.

My Curious Collection

Putting My Feet in the Dirty Prompt#14- The Tear Keeper

Each memory

each word

each touch

each smile, smirk and curse

I have ever seen or felt

sits on a shelf in a room

that I visit

when I  am happy

when I am tired

when I am angry.

 

Each memory

every face

every taste

every breath of wind that blew against my face when I was walking alone

sits on a shelf

that I visit

when I am angry

when I am tired

when I am happy and having a good day.

 

Some of my memories are fragile, some are as sharp as broken glass, some are warm to the touch, some are deathly cold. But I’ve given them a home on those shelves and I treat them with respect and care.

 

And other memories are in boxes in my shed

I keep the door chained shut I won’t let anyone in

and I feed what I keep in them twice a day.

 

We roar together

we gnash our teeth together

we enjoy the darkness together and sometimes we enjoy the light together too.

 

They are my favorites

of course.

And I always visit them when I write.

With You Always

She was broken,

we were broken

she meant nothing to me at all

in the end

he said sadly through a cloud of smoke

to his hot Mama, the Goddess

his true love

on the night of his final betrayal.

 

And they lived happily ever after

until she came back

from the dead and tracked the dirt they buried her in

right up

to

their

front

door.