The Out Option

For some time, there has been speculation about what it would be like to leave Facebook. I have long felt I contributed much more than I gained, making the proposition much less than profitable in a relational way.

I deactivated my account a week ago and have also abandoned Twitter and Instagram. A lot of consideration went into these actions. It was not the choice of a moment.

The time I have gained is tremendous. I am not subject to the harmful material posted by others and have freedom from politics—more than that, the bombardment from advertising is gone.

All my social media has come to seem frivolous, and of little value, so I temporarily quit. Whether I go back is to be seen.

I joined the social networks to build a creative platform, and none of it seems applicable in that regard. The freedom from the tyranny of having to participate and the quantity of time I recovered are strong incentives to opt out permanently.

So, I am reporting from the outside, and the scenery looks gorgeous.

Cannot Lose

If creative practice is coming hard, the feeling is uninspired; this is not the time to break off working or quit. Waiting on the muse is not the way to breakthrough; action begets action.

When working, even without vision, the focus often appears. Creativity is not always fire from on high; sometimes, it works in the dark when the well is parched.

The best way to grow ability, skill, and talent is to use those endowments every day. Even stolen moments give time for proper application.

Creative block is a myth, or most often. The work is always available when dearly sought. Sometimes it may seem a safari fraught with desert spaces, but the jungle exists and is lush. Putting in the time, presence, generates ideas – effort reaps priceless rewards.

Practice daily, even when love lapses, passion ebbs, tunes the imagination for more significant endeavors. Sometimes it falls flat, but mistakes and failures can fold in as ingredients in other projects.

Journals, sketchbooks, devices can gather up scraps, scribbles, those pieces that become something more defined. Having a place to collect all the fragments that appear throughout the hours of the day permits imperfection and play.

Creativity is always present, but it can be shy and requires inviting into every day.

Instants Gather

Be strong, for there is
No other way to conquer fear
Or release the love
Needed to set worlds aright,
Let hearts go on burning bright.
Disappointment will
Steal every happiness, if let –
Expectations stir
The wellsprings of discontent –
Even deserted choose joy.
Make alone – free space
For empowerment and learning
Bask in the design
Which allows acquisition
Of skill, creativity.
Most experience
Starts in imagination,
Thought being precious
Never waste it, cultivate
Attitudes of gratitude.
Be a positive
Person in a negative
World and different
When others opt to conform,
Be a presence live unique.

The Dog Is Not…

The dog is not about the rain. Miserable brown oval lakes accuse me of cruelty. For the raindrops fall, she sudden stops, still and quaking, shakes from nose to tail. I am unwilling this walk to take, but duty tethers me. She cannot count the scents for cover of water; slick it leaves her empty. She tucks her tail, turns, trots me to the door. I warn her, in vivid terms, not to make a deposit in the floor, but does it go beyond her flying nun orifices for understanding? I doubt it; stubbornness is her template. She is that dog, glimpsed, my heart forsook reason, had to adopt, immediately. Love names her mine; pain asks me why? The dog is not about the rain.

I guess this is a prose poem. I do them on occasion. Sometimes breaking lines is an inconvenience.

As a prompt, create something in a form you rarely use.

Bless You!

Aligned

Old lions steady lope
Aware of things imagined
Unseen in high grass
They seem settled, but their minds
Know by heart, giving them speed,
Rousing understanding
Which youngsters lack.
Time-worn lions carry the weight
Of pride upon broad shoulders
Unwilling to abandon the hunt
Or leave the dangerous fight,
Protecting who and what belongs
Is reason enough for believing
And the choice to abide, thrive.