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.
The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August – by Claire North, has 417 pages. Harry keeps living and dying, and the end of the world is coming sooner. Finding the problem becomes a needful thing. Five Stars.
The Miniaturist – by Jessie Burton, is 419 pages. I initially checked this book out from the library when it was new. I finally got around to reading it on Kindle. The story follows a household headed by a shipping magnate. Many strange and interesting incidences occur. Five Stars.
Heaven and Hell – by Bart D. Ehrman, has 346 pages. Not what I was looking for, but the research is relatively solid. The statements at the end of the book tainted the thing for me. Still, it is well-written and information-packed, so I give it Five Stars.
The Witching Hour – by Anne Rice is a hefty tome at 1043 pages. I am a big fan of Vampire Chronicles, but I have avoided the Mayfair Witches for years. I finally read them. Anne’s style with detail and character development is top tier, and the story is enthralling. Five Stars, but yeah, it should have more.
Piranesi – by Susanna Clarke, is 243 pages. This book I read in June, and recently it has won significant accolades. I read this author years ago, and she always delights. The story is between magical realism and puzzling horror. Five stars or you could give it all the gold ones in the package.
Reviews are strictly my opinion. Your experience may vary. Reading is an art, like writing, that illuminates the soul—approach books with care. What is within can be like a tsunami to your notions and your life.
Do you ever have to slow down and find your center? It can take time to remember who you are and for what you are meant. We so easily get lost in chasing the things we need and want and plowing our souls under the toil. Stillness helps us see our persons; music can raise us; reading can picture us; art can show us reason; writing can free us.
We deserve to live creatively and with such love that we feel we can accomplish our hopes and dreams. Some find inspiration in a relationship with Christ Jesus; some follow other paths. As we meet in lives so often hectic, we need to share love and kindness no matter the circumstances in which we exist. Our differences make the world fascinating and rich. We learn much when we open ourselves to one another.
Stepping out of space and time to give ourselves peace to clarify our goals is worthwhile. Sometimes this is done in silence, some creation, some before the eyes of the world. Whatever our method, we must never give up. We are the outworking of the prayers of generations; our promise and purpose must continue.
Today is the moment we grasp; it is our time to build within. Letting it slip through our fingers is not an option—love, love, love. We should be a blessing in whatever places life carries us. Time and again, we can begin a better beginning, for we are living gifts.
Pockets, Oh, Pockets, Why are you Always given Over to the males? Here we, Such genteel Females Are bound By weight of Purses! Maybe some Manmade Pleasure done To encumber Us in some Kind, way, For Lord knows What might occur Were both our Hands empowered. Even enlightened As these times are One may not Depend on Fashion, For pockets can Be often false, Others too Small To carry Much. Designers could Give Consideration To cost Of female Liberty lost.