Category: Music

Specs

When we choose to create, whole universes rise to meet our inclination, which can, on occasion, be intimidating. What we know about process, creation, may not lend itself at the moment to production. Time may swirl its vaporous fogs around us. We may need to filter the nectar from the dew.

A useful tool for creative sessions we find in music. Often, we have many favorites and find it fortuitous to add artists to our listening consistently. There are numerous choices in ways to find and enjoy music these days. Every taste meets ample representation.

An exercise one might do, is to take a song well enjoyed, enter it, imbibe its mood, let the lyrics move the spirit; then write, paint, create something original from what one finds in the experience. Music is heart and soul; it is a gift always filling lives.

Equally, photos can be a catalyst for inspiration. Looking through photos offers a bevy of ideas. Personal and family photos, magazines, Instagram, and other online services should serve well enough. Create as whim and wish may direct.

Random words found in various places can be material to seed many works. Dictionaries, quotations, thesauri, signs will work, or pick some out of the air.

There is never a dearth of creativity; it infuses every portion of reality and imagination. The trick is to harness it and make with it some beauty to honor who we are in the world. At times like these, love is sorely needed and can be delivered expertly through our creations.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Ingress

Music roars, lion,
Distant thunder over sand
Dreams still understand;
Giving hearts, delicate song,
Join in, raising forces long.
Love, a hypnotic
Drumline, spirits syncopate
Finding reason to
Raise green velvet curtains,
Welcoming one another.
Breath enough to be
In between the magic thrill
Never going still,
But a dangerous feeling
Mainlining each small glory.
Shaky dance steps learned,
Holding being, hands, hearts, souls,
Love wins, enfolds tight,
Brightens the mind, midnights, lights
Alleviates much grievous pain.
Music begins trust
Under loving circumstances,
Reaching out again.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Close Enough

The rain falls down
Your hand in my pocket, warm,
Somehow we have to
Get ourselves out of the storm,
The umbrella comes between
The closeness that should
Forever be you and me.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Fires, they rage, so wild,
Out of control, gotta set up –
Some smoke control,
Breathing gets harder, exerts,
Until it almost sets up hurt,
Clouds on the horizon, but no,
It is the fire’s dark exhaust.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Screaming fills in the streets
One says this; another speaks that,
Someone with matches, pyromaniac fun,
The other has a gun in a pocket, heat,
That one has a knife in a boot, treat,
Control fled, no one knows how to live
Everyone is subject to being dead.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Your hand in my pocket,
Please do not let me go,
This world is a desolation,
Join me in the isolation
Check the windows, the doors,
No ingress for strangers
Can we now possibly afford.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

Who have we finally become
Who cannot communicate,
Cannot show respect enough
To avoid a world that deteriorates?
Where did the love go, tell me,
We are all in this together,
If not, we will likely all fall.

It is not our grandparent’s
Wonderful life, we must be careful
Round here, to succeed, to survive.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

The Well Is Deep

Feed and Upkeep: The well within, where creativity and imagination reside, relies on consistent and varied tasks to maintain function and outpour.

Reading most any material will do. I have a love of novels, instructional volumes, Bibles, reference tomes. Still, poetry books, magazines, newspapers, biographies, old, outdated texts, and anything else that comes within my reach are beloved.

Music lifts my spirits and stitches up the tears that plague my soul. Without lyric, melody, and harmony, life would be dark and dull. I listen to virtually anything. I am always finding new favorites that tweak my ears.

Pens are an unquenchable delight. Switching to a different one can somehow spur an unusual stream of thought, freed from wherever it took flight.

Art supplies can move me to discover parts of me for which I never knew there existed a need.

Cards, journals, paper somehow seem full of beauties I search for when I am distracted. I often find a binding peace in words that flow like honey from the interiors I did not know were waiting.

Time with Tribble and Wookie, my extraordinary dogs, grounds me and helps relax my hyperactivity.

Driving can be a journey into spaces between my heartbeats. The heart of me responds to the motion and the emotion of the music that usually plays.

I have to be cautious, for funds are few, but shopping with the beauty of acquisition and variety of choice bubbles the well.

Costuming within the wardrobe I chose also has a pleasure that suits me.

I am highly productive with creativity, so I slake my thirst at the well continually. No one can build without quality materials. Taking time to restore our power is an essential portion of the creative function. I hope maybe you found some ideas. May you always find what you require before you come to know your need.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

What do you do to fill your well, or do you have other words for it? Can you increase your inflow so you have more product?

Do you have persons who encourage and inspire you to the point the well is filled?

Does conversation carry you to new constellations where you find true being?