Creativity

  • Drawing

    Every spare moment I have is spent drawing. It is an obsession. An itch that will not go away, no matter how vigorously I scratch it. It is all a great mystery, this creative road I travel. Art has been… Continue reading

  • Pure Bliss

    It is a softness that becomes me, and I am gone. Lately I am understanding more and more about this mysterious creative force that takes me, and yet, truly, I understand nothing. I know it uses me in ways I… Continue reading

  • The Unfortunate Story of A Large Dog.

    The German Shepherd changed things. She considered revenge, but then, he had always nurtured a sick fantasy of being mistreated by women. How inconvenient life could be at times. Still. He had known she would only consider small dogs, and… Continue reading

  • Writing

    It comes when it is ready to come. It chooses, I have no say. I just feel and write what the feelings translate to. A miraculous marvel. A beauty of life I’m so, so thankful for. Continue reading

  • She Drifts, Again

    It really did seem like the perfect plan. And so I did it. I set up an official page on instagram to act as the much longed for social media home of ‘The Little Blog of Everything’ and all things… Continue reading

  • The Quiet

    The quiet has come upon me, and so I have to write. It’s a strange quiet, a wonderful one, however mixed with a soft melancholy. It’s been with me, on and off, for as long as I can remember, and… Continue reading

  • A Poet

    Of all the labels I reject ‘a poet’ is the one golden cage ringing true to my soul. It holds my heart, this stamp that tells me- not who I am, but what I do in the world and how… Continue reading

  • Dancing Girl

    She danced like no one was watching. She went to that place where all artists go when they create. She is my daughter and she is five, but actually she is ageless, and it was this beautiful, ageless essence that… Continue reading

  • Imagine

    Sometimes, I wonder if I can still write. Not just write, as in, write any old words. I mean, I sometimes wonder if I can still write fiction that peels my skin from the bone. Words I read back after… Continue reading

  • Creativity Rises

    I intend to write one thing and another is born. Creativity rises. It controls me, not the other way around. The poem I’ve just written began with a feeling of being stuck. Stuck in COVID lockdown. Stuck in a middle… Continue reading