Tag: creative
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On Being Untamed
I’ve never been particularly adept at following the kinds of advice offered in self-help books. If I’m going to be honest, I have a hard enough time even finishing them. Let alone imagining myself adhering to a series of complex daily routines, implementing workbooks or invoking the aid of other strategy-making devices, or—God forbid—participating in…
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On Cooking and Living Sensually II
It is rare, at least for me, that an old blog post should make a comeback. But a recent surge in views of On Cooking and Living Sensually, originally published in November 2017, prompted me to revisit that discussion early this morning. To decide if, a year and a half later, my thoughts on the…
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The Blind Pig
i don’t know what happens here at the arm of the great barn door the moment the day breaks through itself & the night capsizes between two watery thighs if the earth was made of salt we’d all be starving little belly full of hay sun breeze & a giant mud stage with a tambourine…
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Mysterium
This post is formatted to reflect an original journal entry. 1/13/19 I am fully engaged in the process of creating my own myth. The truth smacks me like a glove. I have been wrong. I have spent the day—nay, every free moment in the past three days—reading, breathless, Carl Jung’s The Red Book and Memories,…
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Late Night Jazz
This post is formatted to reflect an original journal entry. 9/15/18 The day’s been dark and peaceful. An hour and a half of yoga. Soft jazz. Writing longhand in my notebook while rain pelts the windows and long gusts of wind rumble through the trees. It’s almost time for chamomile tea and a cat in…
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Pots of Gold
I’ve been going through an intensely creative phase lately. All poetry. Averaging nearly a poem a day. Reading Kerouac. Contemplating Maslow. Both now having stirred my interests in Buddhism. They make me want to retreat to the mountains and meditate. I remind myself that I’ve got a hiking trip coming up next month. My own…
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On the Art of Travel
It occurs to me, having spent the greater part of my Sunday immersed in Paul Tillich’s The Courage to Be, trying to finesse a poem that simply won’t come, and making heavy notations on Maslow’s thinking about the marriage of “higher living” and our instinctual lives (including his concept of “aggridants”), that it might be…
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B-Sides
This post is formatted to reflect an original journal entry. 8/21/18 I find that I am prone to more frequent bouts of spontaneous creative activity lately. This thrills me. Makes me feel soulful. What does that mean, anyway–soulful? Integrated? Aligned? Deeply and holistically expressive? Yes. Back to alignment. Makes me think of the Peterson book.…
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Patchwork
I don’t contemplate trees or the latticework of a banana peel like a tulip lined fence under the bark of a dogwood preparing to burst its flowering buds in the wake of a blue bird’s wing I don’t like structure or formalism or heavy expostulations or connect-the-dots 1-2-3 like academics and paper hangers do abab…
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My Quest for Beauty
It is true that I borrowed the title of this post from Rollo May’s narrative of the same name. A move I initially had misgivings about, provided my sometimes too-serious penchant for originality. Chill, I told myself. And, just do it your way (the single most valuable piece of advice I have yet to give…
The Used Life 