Have you ever felt that as you get older time seems to fly faster? Do you remember how long it seemed to take for the holidays to arrive? I remember how Halloween felt a year away in January and how Christmas seemed to take forever to arrive. Even when I was a teenager we went through the school year as if we had been sentenced to a million years in purgatory with no sign of summer vacation in sight. How things change and how you become more understanding of how your parents must have seen things.
Now that I will be 46 in a couple of weeks how my perspective has changed. How I have changed. I am a realist, always have been. There are no delusions here. The changes are clear and I don’t deceive anyone about them, least of all myself. The first of these changes is how time seems to fly. We have not celebrated Halloween when here comes Christmas bypassing thanksgiving. There’s no time to so much as enjoy one before another pops up. It’s a rat race, scavenger hunt and tag you’re it game all in one. As an adult you only get to prepare but never really enjoy the celebrations you held so dear and with such anticipation as a child. I miss that. For me the physical changes are enough to deal with. The exhaustion that comes out of nowhere, those little things you forget though you just heard it a minute ago and the ever so deep plunge your patience takes with people who make no sense. You know what I mean? That last one is a doosie for me. I have never had much patience to begin with. Especially for ignorance or stupidity from any source. The only people who get a pass are kids and that depends on the age. Sometimes. Most times the child is a product of the parent but that is another subject for another time.
Now as far as emotions go I find that the most difficult. Aging is an angry bitch with a hacksaw. She hacks at your face and body without mercy until only the shadow of who you were remains. The worst part of that is your brain remembers. It remembers youth. The freshness of your young face before the sun spots, the young hands before the lines set in. It remembers and teases you and entices you. It even tries to convince you that you have not aged and can continue to do that which you did twenty or even thirty years ago. Reality then hits you when you cant lift that leg as high or run that fast if you can run at all without gasping that is. Age my friend is a clown with bad makeup and no friends. Still we love her. I do because as I age I learn. With all it’s pains I see my children grow and flourish and I am part of that. That makes me welcome age as my best friend because she’s been with me 45 years and still I am here. Dialysis will come and go and my transplant will come when it comes. I will continue to hold her hand as long as I can. My greatest wish is to hold her tight and do it with grace, dignity and most of all with my mind fully intact.
Hello my fellow bloggers. I am here to invite you to my new poetry blog http:// poeticallybloo.wordpress.com I know some of you used to follow my last poetry blog which I decided to close down due to expenses I could not afford at the moment and I hope you will come to partake of my poetry here. I will most definitely follow your page with my new blog in return. Thank you in advance for your continued support.
This is a question that I have always asked myself throughout all of my years of writing. Out of all of these years this is the first time I have actually sat myself down to write about it. I have been writing since I was 13 years old. That would be about 30 years now since I first put pen to paper. I fell in love with the written word at the library, the school library to be exact because back then though I knew book stores existed I had never been to one. Buying books was not on the top of the list when your single mom is working hard just to keep food on the table.
The library was my haven. Everything I could digest I read. My first favorite was Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare. I must have read it at least three times. I didn’t understand it the first time but I remember the exact moment I did understand it and that I was hooked! After that first understanding books became everything to me. I traveled with and through them everywhere. I read fiction, non fiction, poetry, art, traveling magazines, everything that peaked my interest.
Still, although I wrote, I did not begin to write poetry until I was 17 years old. I don’t remember exactly how I began to write poetry or what inspired me. I took college writing courses but those were vested mostly in english literature which was my major.
I just loved writing. It became my passion along with reading but I was not attracted to short stories or to being a novelist my work always seemed to take poetic form from the beginning. Even my thought process came in spurts and one liners. It has always been difficult for me to write something that is not poetry but it doesn’t stop me from trying. I am a writer after all.
That is why I have always questioned if poetry is learned or if you are born a poet?
I was born a poet although I know that reading opened me up in many ways. My vocabulary and understanding have grown immensely through my love of reading and many of my teachers and professors enhanced and nourished that love but i believe that I was already a poet. I needed only to discover it within myself and develop it. In my opinion you are born who you are going to be, talents intact. Just as musicians are born with an ear for music and painters with an eye for art, I was born with the mind and hands for words.
So, I guess I answered my own question, but what do you think?
I love art and artists of all kinds. I love painters and poets, novelists, designers, singers, song writers, producers, bloggers, scrap book makers, just all kinds of artists.
There’s something about being around a creatively infused person that makes me very happy. Have you noticed that most artists have more than one talent? A writer can sometimes paint or draw as well or maybe has an eye for art. I have seen it so many times the beauty of creativity. We have been given a gift that makes the world brighter and beautiful at the same time.
We inform and educate others in a lovely way that makes them want to really see things differently. There is nothing like seeing the world through an artists eyes. A cake tastes better when a fabulous baker makes it. An aria can bring you to tears through a melodious voice. A book can take you throughout the world when you see it from the perspective of a fabulous writer.
Communing with artists is an experience that brings you out of yourself. It can make you forget all your issues and for a moment, enlighten your existence. Even when I’ve had the hardest day I can go to a spoken word event and have a great time listening to everyones poetry and point of view. I can go to a museum and my eyes and mind are bathed in miracles. I can simply walk through central park and listen to the most gracious of musicians. It gives me the greatest sense that we are all united. We all have problems and I can understand yours and you mine.
And so I write, because I must. There is no way I can just not write. For most of us our art is this way, we are called to it. There is that pull within us to create and so we do. Our blessing are abundant! No matter how many times I may get blocked in my writing I always find an artistic way to express myself.
I am grateful every day and with Gods given grace I will create every day until my last.
Keep creating! My glass and praise I raise to you all!!!
This is a loaded question. There are so many things I wish I knew when I was 18 that had I known them my life would be unrecognizable even to me.
The greatest of those would have been slow down, nothing is that serious! You can cruise your life and do it right.
You don’t have to run.
Had I followed this knowledge perhaps I would have not committed half of the mistakes I committed in my life or at the very least I would have made different ones with better results.
I also wish I had known I had options in life. That I had better choices than the ones other people had for me. That I could be myself and my choices were mine to make. Had I known this I would have lived fuller and taken the world by storm much sooner.
I am still trying to take it though and that counts don’t it?
Still I would have explored the world.
Chosen many more adventures, seen many more sights.
Had I slowed down I would have waited to do many of the things I did way too soon like getting married at 18,having three children by the age of 29, or quitting college that I may have been a better, more educated parent for my children. Although I did the best I could and to this day I am quite proud of y sons and daughter. I still wish I had known that I could do better, for me.
Because I know that I could have been greater than I am now.
Still, I also know that everything happens for a reason. I know that I traded being a wiser mother for being a mother who was more open minded, virile and willing to learn from her children. As they grew I grew. I taught them and they taught me that I didn’t have to be perfect. That I was o.k. the way I was because I truly loved them.
I learned that I became a mom at just the right time because had I waited too long I would, because of my kidney disease not been able to be a mom at all and that would have hurt me more than any needle. So God had a plan after all and I am good with that.
So yes, I wish I had known a few things when I was younger but I guess that’s what youth is all about. Learning and becoming. I figure if we knew everything there would be no need to live and I intend to live with all my mistakes and success in tow.
All I can honestly tell you is to be proud of you. We have come this far and too many haven’t. Plus I am correcting one mistake this fall. I’m going back to college. And I won’t quit because this time my kids will be in the audience to see me.
I wouldn’t miss it for the world!
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