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Thursday, January 17, 2013

James=Genius!/Woodcarving for You?


Still battling the cold that I and everyone else seems to have or had. Went to a Chicago Cabaret Professionals "meet and greet" last night. Kind of fun. They do it a few times a year so members can get face time with each other, see what folks are working on, talk about the year's agenda, etc. I shouldn't have sung cuz what's coming out of my mouth these days is not healthy!  The vocal chords have seized and I risk damaging them with my impatience to perform. I hope I never suffer what befell Julie Andrews when she lost her voice completely due to botched surgery.  I can live without a lot: carbs, wheat, dairy, sugar, wealth, prestige, romance but singing? I don't think I could live without a song on my lips.

Did you read the blog several days ago that included my creative writing from last Wednesday's prompt group - entitled Sally and Dee-Dee? I think I did well, incorporating all five of the first lines given into a cohesive and compelling (albeit dark) piece that I conceived and wrote in only twenty minutes.  I'm pretty darn good at that - writing those little vignettes!  So, if you agree and found my writing good you will be all the more amazed with what James created from that very same prompt in the same amount of time. Almost puts my effort to shame! He is frigging amazing - there is genius there!  The following piece is absolutely brilliant, birthed by him with seeming effortlessness, complete and perfect right from his fingers to the keyboard with no editing or massaging.  And it even rhymes!!!!  Here goes:

The hooting of an owl is what awakened me from a sound sleep. 
Not the bark of a dog or the bray of a sheep 
Nor the moan of the wind or a cricket's soft cheep 
Just the hoot of an owl brought me up from the deep. 

It was dark outside and there were not stars to be seen 
Only satiny shadows and the moon's silver beams 
And the rustle of branches in the soft summer breeze 
And the bark of the alders with their silvery sheen 

The small meadow surrounded by trees was my home 
I'd no need to wander and no need to roam 
The deer were my playmates, the gophers and voles 
And we capered and danced on the soft earthy loam 

But the hoot of an owl had awoke me this night 
A sound filled with warning, a voice filled with fright 
Something was coming, something's not right 
Something that kept itself hidden from sight 

The forest grew silent, the breeze soft and still 
The moon sank down westward and touched the low hill 
I slunk to the trees where ran a small rill 
And hunkered and waited my blood running chill 

From out of the blackness revealed at last 
Black form against moonlight a thing from the past 
My heart leapt and hammered, the sight held me fast 
as the thing raised its muzzle and called out a great blast 

Ten hands stood the thing, with fur all in tangles 
With chitinous claws that could rend and could mangle 
and glimmering scales that jingled and jangled 
from slavering jaws long ropes of drool dangled 

On all fours it crept though it rose up on two 
It's wide glowing eyes were a brilliant sky blue 
From its back sprouted wings I watched as they grew 
It bellowed once more, its wings flapped, and it flew. 

I no longer stay in the meadow at dark 
I hide in the trees with the wrens and the larks 
and I lurk in the needles and cling to the bark 
and become one with the shadows, one with the dark 

I am ever watchful now when it's night 
I know not where the thing flew, I know not how high 
I only know now with the breezes soft sigh 
To keep one eye always on the deep starless sky.

Just imagine what he could do if he had forty minutes!!!!  Gotta run cuz monster list beckons and I've got my IT person coming today to fix my wireless network, klatching with neighbor Una this afternoon and if I'm up to it the first night in a new Landmark seminar series. So busy!!!

Challenge today - harping, harping I know. What is your creative outlet?  I know, you're busy too, there aren't enough hours in your day. And yet, if you're not expressing yourself creatively I have to think you aren't all that happy. There's something, surely.  Creative cooking, dusting off an instrument, woodworking, knitting, dancing, writing, home improvements.....something.

Peace,
Sarah

1 comment:

  1. The monster in James' piece could be a/your monster to-do list!

    That was a really cool poem to read!

    ReplyDelete