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J Elyzabeth's Blog

A Writer's Journey of a Secluded Mind

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I like to say I can write English well, but in perusing Twitter (avoiding evening adult chores) I ran across this tweet-link from the DailyWritingTips regarding Lead (present) and Led (past).

Oops.

I have so been guilty of this. Read the article, it is well put together and makes you think. I found that I have been following this account and if I had taken the time to click a link ages ago, I may have been led down a more informative path.

I now feel that I need to review documents at work to ensure (or is it insure?…) that we’ve used the correct tenses. I hope to lead in the right direction but am sure I have led along treacherous paths.

Oh well, just one more pitfall in the journey of a writer’s mind.

Maeve Maddox, DailyWritingTips, The Past Tense of “Lead” is Spelled “Led”, accessed on 08.25.2020, https://www.dailywritingtips.com/the-past-tense-of-lead-is-spelled-led/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter

It began as any other day as Lucy walked out of the house. The groggy-not-quite-sure-she-was-ready-to-go-out-and-about type of day.
“If my head wasn’t attached, I’d lose it.” And promptly that lighter than life feeling of being quite not there ensued and Lucy watched her head drift away.
“I’m going to need that,” musing, Lucy got in the car, readying to go to work. Looking out the window, “Nope, gone now.”
Saying it out loud, Lucy realized I really can’t believe my eyes. Silly me, my head, mirror check, “Yep. Still attached.”
She could feel them. Feel them move as they tried to be anywhere but in the meeting. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did they really think this was going to be a good idea? Did the head of the department really think everyone who worked so hard on this project was going to sit back and accept because he turned the project in a week late, they would not get a bonus.
Lucy sat and listened, listened to her lead inform the President that the fault was not with the staff but…
Well there goes the left one.
And now she half listened, tried to follow the conversation, but it really was too many voices at once.
And there goes the right.
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to sit there and wiggle your ears while they’re arguing over our pay?”
“Nervous tick.” Lucy covered the ear closest to her coworker – nope it was where it was supposed to be.
“It is not that windy!” Lucy tried to push her hair back from her head, but the long strands whipped around as if the small gust of wind was a level five hurricane. The wind slowed, as did the long strands, leaving her hair in disarray.
Lucy waived in greeting to the technician sitting behind the front counter at the nail salon. Making a straight line for the lavatory located just to the side of the entrance.
A quick check, empty. “Really, did this have to happen.”
She started the improbable task of taming her hair, only the quiet threat of cutting it all off made the process any shorter. Even, then she was sure there were strands out of place where she couldn’t see.
Let alone the chunk that would not remove itself from beneath the collar at the back of her shirt.
Lucy wiggled her feet out of the sandals, glad to have the day done. Glad to be home and no longer having to try to keep track of everything. Slowly her head floated to the ceiling, done for the weekend, with her ears detaching drifting towards the radio, music on low. Sitting down, Lucy felt her hair move, making its way to the shelf to settle down for the night. She settled, feet on the ottoman in front of her, a nice quiet dark room.
“Behave, I just had you painted,” was the comment as the toes with freshly adorned toenails scampered off to get into to mischief.
I really can’t believe them, my toenails. Not even a minute in the door and they’re scuffed. This had been noticed as the pinkies tried to hide behind the larger toes on their way to the other room.
“Really, it is hard to keep myself all together if you don’t help.”

.

C. Claiborne Ray, Born to be a Wiggler, The New York Times, Jan. 16, 2017, https://nyti.ms/2iDEfGX (accessed July 27, 2020)


<<Writingprompt.com via Twitter 7.15.2020 “I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears, or my hair. Or my toenails.”

I know you
I’ve heard you a thousand times
In my head
In my mind
I know you
And I don’t
A dream within a dream
I know you
I’ll wait for you a thousand lives
In my heart
In my mind

I am old
I am sitting here wishing on a dream that I know will never happen
Don’t settle they say
Don’t settle I repeat
But why do I feel holding out means eternity alone?

I write because I am afraid to speak
I write because of fleeting thought
I write because I am not heard
I write because once it is thought it is forgot

It is said the pen is more dangerous than the sword

I say it is the wielder

A swordsmith can dance among his people and cut nary a hair from their head

A writer can write words and destroy the faith of humanity

And yet

The king can cut off a single head and instill fear in all who follow

Yet the writer can write an essay on the whys of what happened

Instilling hope and faith back into the people

You tell me who is more dangerous

The one with the pen

Or the one with the sword

Both are weapons

                Be they wielded in fear or faith

And yet more dangerous is the man who wields both

I was thinking about sayings I have heard over the years that are meant to give inspiration, give warning, make a person think.

And the songs Flowers are Red (it’s actually by Hary Chapin – I always have to look this up) got me to thinking about rainbows. Which leads us back to Roy G Biv, now at the time I started to write this I didn’t know how the naming of the colors in the rainbow started. I briefly looked it up – found a single source and have much more to research. (Don’t take my word for it – go on an adventure and search for your own answers) But this is how I learned the colors of the rainbow – Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo and Violet. “Roy G. Biv”

And I was thinking on my walk in sun that’s a little too hot. That the colors blue, indigo and violet, as you follow them down the color spectrum, to the darkening shades, turn black.

And we have been taught for so long that black is bad. But is it? Or is it just another color that can portray beauty by a different light? I mean really, on the blackest of nights, I see blue. My black is hinged by blue. White snow turns blue, trees turn indigo and if we take but a moment to still our imaginations, our fears; wondrous things appear.

So, it is not merely good and evil, black and white. But a realigning of our perceptions.

Do not get me wrong, there are scary, evil things out there. But I think they are almost an absence of color. And that to me is a scary thing. Because if you say you do not see race or color or people or the privileges you have been given… then I believe you miss seeing so much beauty.

Nothing in life is free. Good things must be worked towards, and bad things happen. But it is up to each of us to learn how we perceive the world, and if it is slightly dark – to learn a new way to look at life. To change our perceptions, to re-learn our truths. Where we have come from, what we have learned tinge the colors of the world we see. If they are cloudy and murky, then it is up to us to learn how to clean that lens.

Only then will we see color. Only then can we look back on the path we have walked and accept not all was as it seemed, and look forward into a more colorful world.

Because if you cannot see color, you may miss seeing the smallest lights of brilliance.

(National Post, Feb 16, 2015, Postmedia News “Why the colour indigo is disappearing from Sir Isaac Newton’s ‘occult’ rainbow)

Thoughts to ponder (a continuing saga)

Still waters run deep

The calm before the storm

Listen, learn

Flowers are Red – listen to the song sung by Harry Chapin. Read the lyrics and really really take a moment to ponder what we have done

“What is your name? Speak yourself”  – BTS – Kim Nam Jun; 2018 September 24, UNICEF address – Read this for yourself. Take a moment and think. The music, their words reach across generations. We are never to old to learn something new. We are never to old to find that dream. To “speak yourself” Only by finally acknowledging ourselves can we pave the way for future generations, and sometimes we must follow the younger generations. Speak a truth and provide a safe haven and encouragement “Go. Go make the world a better place than I ever dreamed.”

Ogres are like onions (Shrek). People are like jewels. (I’ll explain this one on another thought trail – but please ponder)

Smile – It’ll make people wonder what you know

Stop and smell the roses. Don’t pick them, leave them for the next person to enjoy their beauty.

Be wary of the quiet ones.

Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.

People who live in glass houses should throw no stones.

“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her” John 8:7 ESV Study Bible 2008

“… First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.” Luke 6:42 ESV Study Bible 2008

The road to hell was paved with good intentions

Nothing worth having is not worth working for

To the winner go the spoils – put a positive bend to this, if you work for it you are winning

>> I’m looing for things to inspire, to help move forward. IF you loot at all the sayings I gathered so far, they are ones we know. We speak. We reference. So why if we, as a collective, know these; do we not abide by them?

>> Add more quotes – if you where any of the above come from, please provide your references so we can learn too. I would love to amend the above to include a link to where people can locate the history of the quote or where they can start looking if interested in furthering education.

I live in a glass house. I shall throw no stone.

I live in a glass house. My foundation is torn.

I shall read and I shall listen.

I shall shore the foundation.

I shall create kintsugi.

I shall open the windows and doors.

I shall do this until I return to from whence I was born.

I live in a glass house. I shall throw no stone.

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