Out of the Way

Nothing assures the imagination will show itself, but we are all creative and can manufacture situations to bring dreams to life.

One way is to face the page in actuality or on-screen and stay with it until words or art come. Another is to dive in; create as one goes, letting go of the obligation to be great in the roughness of the draft. One can clean up the mistakes and omissions later.

No one, nothing, is perfect this side of heaven. There are flaws in people and things – inanimate and living. Everyone has to deal with who they are, but change is doable. Work is not permanent, everything has a season. Sometimes the appropriate season fails to come, but this is no reason to give up.

If one only creates for the temporary pleasure of applause, little is apt to be accomplished. Seeing each moment as practice one moves close to concrete meaning. The creative act is where one experiments attempting to beget work that measures up to the triumphs of the past. Best practice is to keep the self as the competition rather than others.

If work is not displayed for public digestion it can marinate in the recesses of imagination being allowed to be edited in time for consumption by others. One must continue the work only an individual may do. Each person’s vision is important as an antidote to the fracturing of the world. Production is a valid truth, creation has meaning, dreams must be nourished. Life requires each perception of what is and is not precious. Keep going, never give up.

We Create

When creating seems impossible, sometimes it is good to bide our time and do things that fill the well. Other times we have to jump in and make do with what comes. Pushing ourselves will not necessarily lessen our work’s quality, but it might get us back to flow.

We may not feel like cooking, but we will do it so we can eat. Our art will never appear without our exerting effort. Even if inspiration seems to desert us, we have agile minds, which can imagine even when the streams we commonly rely on have run dry.

We must do, or we fall into habits that include accepting creative blocks. There comes a moment we recognize a stop only exists as we allow it.

Breaking Through

The cold moves over
Me like a breath of wind brought
In with the opening
Of a door unexpected
And I chill a little thrill.

Night has in its fists
All the light it took away
At the sun’s setting
It seems to whisper Winter
Has no patience to further wait.

I laugh that ready
Chortle that calls another
Game to begin here
For this too is my season
Breathing it, I brace with health.

One essential point to keep foremost in mind is that we are not guaranteed time. What we want to do we must be busy about doing. Finding a reason is easy if we wish to leave some evidence of our lives on Earth. We are capable of much more than we often believe. Only we can do what we can do.

If you must, borrow
A smile from a friend, stranger,
Then bend creation.

Here’s hoping everyone finds themselves with the mindset to create. It is so vital; in fact, it can change reality.

Wave upon wave drives
Crashing to shore swallowing –
Ejecting, found more.

All material on this site unless otherwise noted is
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Becoming Better Able

You may have forgotten, but remember now, dear, you are a blessing. No matter what words were said to, over you, or what actions were taken, you are precious, loved, and have a unique purpose. God set you in place to accomplish things only you can do. Every moment has prepared you for this time.

Be open, be ready because opportunities are inbound, and you must become the pilot. There may be agonies, doubts, and fears, but no one lives with trials forever. Suffering is preparation, building strength and determination. Often heartache and heartbreak teach gentleness and kindness. Empathy is born in pain.

Understanding is a gracious gift given to those who survive hardship. When you have temptations and tribulations, you can remain steadfast in prayer for the Lord Jesus will be your guiding strength, and after the storms pass, blessings will arrive. Mercy and grace be with you all your life, and the Lord keep you always.

Lost, Under A Chemical Sun

They told the parents everything was a loss, but they refused to give up. They started a prayer chain, hoping the sleeper would not get deeper lost.

Still here, woken up, but there was a cost. Broken, missing pieces, but knowing greater than doctors thought.

Miracles, they happen, more often than not.

A Voice, Recalling

When we lose someone, we lose a world. Like pulled dandelions, what we shared no longer grows, and memories begin their inexorable progression toward erasure.

Loss is not a welcome thing, but the world relies on change to bring new worth. We are only brief figments here on earth.

I remember playing with the cigar box full of marbles as a child. They were of different sizes, colors, like jewels to me. I made them families, heroes, nobles, gave them ages, dispositions, names. One would sit in the hole on the clipboard’s clip and tell the others what to do. Each globe would, in the different voices I contrived and assigned, live life in child-time.

When my son was small, I got him Weebles with their cute rounded bodies and affable faces. It occurs to me today why I preferred Weebles to the other brand: the marbles influenced me.

What life deposits in our hands, heads, hearts, pockets, shoes, we may not recognize until some complexity pulls it into mind. The sea awash within a brain is a many furrowed swell; the trenches have their heads and tales to tell.

I am not fond of goodbyes. Usually, it is me who must go away, and life goes on ever else. Death, though, is another story. All that is left to hold are anecdotes, pictures, memories we wrote. The pain is like a hammer to the brain, the million shards left of the heart; together, these foist into life oceans of tears. Even as the years go by, there are days when all fails, but the sobs that will not stop.

I would go back to the marbles if I could, but they left my inventory’s grasp somewhere in the years. Like so much along the way, I only have recollections of what I believe was yesterday. Without artifacts, there are questions, questions arresting and bold.

Today is, we can
Maybe, make a memory
Shining beautiful,
So the mind will forever
Keep it safely untarnished.

Reading books can be a treasure of inspiration.

As a prompt, take something you are reading, pick a phrase, let it marinate in your consciousness. Then write until your soul exhausts the subject, at least for a time.

Gratitude List

I am thankful:

I am here; there were many near misses.
I still learn and am teachable.
Technology astounds, confounds, and fascinates me.
Color adds so much to our lives.
Electricity keeps the world going on.

If we all work together separately, we can bring the world into a state of art. Creativity is a portion of love.