Worlds  slip and slide beneath my   first world feet

Crunching through the pebbles on the beach
The shells and stones shine damply  in the wet
They slip and slide beneath my  sandalled feet

Underneath, in places we can’t reach
Live tiny creatures on which humans step
Crunching through the pebbles on the beach

 

Salty air like sunshine colours bleach
The  neutered stones and shells  are lovely yet
They slip and slide beneath my  sandalled feet

We murder without knowing what we teach
Human greed, dark  oceans of regret
Scrunching through the pebbles on the beach

The smallest  of all creatures cannot screech
Say humans acts  still shapeless  are a threat
Worlds  slip and slide beneath my   first world feet

The blurred edge of the sea and sand’s not set
The boundaries   make a  space for what’s not yet
Loving are my memories of the beach
They slip and slide  in  wondrous retrospect

Michael Howard reappears to question Mr Netanyahu

‘Why could you not use rubber bullets?’ the former Tory leader asked.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jun/07/tories-michael-howard-confronts-israel-over-gaza-protesters-deaths

Beginning

The former Conservative party leader Michael Howard has confronted the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, over Israel’s recent killing of more than 100 Palestinian protesters, demanding to know why the country’s defence forces used live ammunition to curb the protests.

Responding to sharp, unexpected questions from one of the most prominent Jewish figures in British politics, Netanyahu said he was looking for new technological solutions to prevent protesters scaling the fence separating Gaza from Israel. He insisted the protesters were either paid civilians or Hamas members.

 

I am not joking about wanting to seem less intelligent

I have been told many times since my husband died that if I want to find a new partner I will have to appear less intelligent
[I don’t feel  very intelligent]

Well,if you didn’t know I write poetry or I taught maths how can you see that I am intelligent?

And unless I know what it is  that I do  that makes me seem intelligent I can’t change it.On the other hand if being intelligent  is such a handicap,is it worth looking for  another person to be close to? I  am going to be dead before this happensphoto0069

I might want to seem less intelligent,possibly,you know what I mean

8gsn49ecktfog_l-22https://hackspirit.com/6-habits-make-people-seem-less-intelligent/

Jordan Peterson says this too:

Extract

2) Poor Posture

If you want people to take you seriously, you need to take yourself seriously. This means that you need to present yourself seriously.

So show people you are serious by adopting a posture that says you are professional and approachable.

In other words, don’t slouch.

Sure, it is fine if you are working in your basement or lazing on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, but if you are doing work, sit up straight. Even if you work at home, getting dressed and sitting at your desk makes all the difference in your approach to work, and how you see yourself in your life.

So sit up straight. Make sure your feet are planted firmly on the floor and don’t hunch over your computer.

If you are in a meeting, be sure to keep your hands in front of you so that you don’t cross your arms: this makes you look closed off and unapproachable to those around you.

If someone is suffering do not say

  • person standing near lake
    Photo by Lukas Rychvalsky on Pexels.com

    Everything always works out in the end

  • Time heals all wounds
  • We’ll all be laughing about this soon

Not if you were in Auscwitz or any other dreadful place

Perhaps not in Gaza  either

Not to a friend with cancer

Not to  your friend after you stole her fiance[e]

Not when  they have a miscarriage

Envy and hate

cypripedium-flavum_2018Isn’t it just a feeling of worthlessness in the face of something wonderful that makes  someone hate it?

I think it’s exactly the opposite. You feel unworthy because of your hatred.

You see the object of desire and you hate it because it has what you want. Jealousy is less destructive because it acknowledges the worth of the object but someone else has it – it’s tripartite. But in envy you destroy the good object. It’s like a patient who meets someone that they could have a meaningful relationship with and then denigrates them and undermines them, says they are being manipulated and actually makes the good bad. It’s biting the hand that feeds us. Gratitude is not the only opposite of envy but the capacity to take pleasure in someone else’s achievement is the opposite of envy.

The still small voice

To  walk the  path that everyone walks on
Or turn off to the heather and the hill?
A still small voice must guide us  or we’re done

Life to children’s agony and fun
Where little is decided by the will
We  walk the  path that our parents trod on

When a child matures, he is a man
She has her own deep nature to fulfill
A still small voice must guide  us, everyone

But can we hear the voice in such a din?
The noise of all we see  may well compel
To  walk the  path that our parents have done

What is my true way, what is my sin?
Who will help me see what is the real?
A still small voice is heard if we listen

 

Advances must be made by  who rebels.
The prophets spoke with God and heard him tell
Not to  walk the  path that all walk on
His still small voice must guide us  or we’re done

Elected Silenc

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89).  Poems.  1918.
 Photo by my sister.Copyright 2018img_0447
3. The Habit of Perfection
ELECTED Silence, sing to me
And beat upon my whorlèd ear,
Pipe me to pastures still and be
The music that I care to hear.
Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb:         5
It is the shut, the curfew sent
From there where all surrenders come
Which only makes you eloquent.
Be shellèd, eyes, with double dark
And find the uncreated light:         10
This ruck and reel which you remark
Coils, keeps, and teases simple sight.
Palate, the hutch of tasty lust,
Desire not to be rinsed with wine:
The can must be so sweet, the crust         15
So fresh that come in fasts divine!
Nostrils, your careless breath that spend
Upon the stir and keep of pride,
What relish shall the censers send
Along the sanctuary side!         20
O feel-of-primrose hands, O feet
That want the yield of plushy sward,
But you shall walk the golden street
And you unhouse and house the Lord.
And, Poverty, be thou the bride         25
And now the marriage feast begun,
And lily-coloured clothes provide
Your spouse not laboured-at nor spun.

Poems about identity and the self

photo0069https://interestingliterature.com/2017/10/11/10-of-the-best-poems-about-identity-and-the-self/

 

The Self-Unseeing by Thomas Hary

Here is the ancient floor,
Footworn and hollowed and thin,
Here was the former door
Where the dead feet walked in.

She sat here in her chair,
Smiling into the fire;
He who played stood there,
Bowing it higher and higher.

Childlike, I danced in a dream;
Blessings emblazoned that day;
Everything glowed with a gleam;
Yet we were looking away!

Their eyes convey both hate and sweetest joy

Cats  make good companions for the lone
Their eyes convey both hate and sweetest joy
Unlike the diamond ring or garden gnome

If you have no spouse nor a toy boy
A cat can kiss you  well and then annoy
Cats  make  just companions for the lone

Cats ,like gentlemen ,can  wildly roam
And never tell you who or what they saw
I like  a diamond ring or garden gnome

A cat won’t ever ask, what’s Google Chrome?
Nor ask why you’ve  got lovers by the score
Cats  make real companions for the lone

And by your moods ,no cat is  overthrown
Though some may exit through their  little door
Cats  make loved companions for the lone

Yet even cats have limits that implore
That you should  find a human to adore
Cats  make good companions for the lone
Unlike  a diamond ring or garden gnome

With knowledge

Cardiocrinum_2018-3https://www.etymonline.com/word/conscience

https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/syneidesis

 

syneidesis

  • That part of the conscience which is concerned with evaluating past actions. Contrasted with “synteresis”.

Origin

Early 17th century. From ancient Greek συνείδησις knowledge, in Hellenistic Greek also consciousness, conscience (attested in various sources including Septuagint, New Testament) from συνειδέναι to be cognizant of or privy to a thing, (with reflexive pronoun) to be conscious of + -σις.

 

Dave runs in chased by a cat

briidge-swirl
Art by Katherine

As Mary got ready to go out,she realised she had not combed her hair.Where were the 24 combs she had bought from Amazon?Not in her delightful red and purple shoulder bag.She pondered over what to d0
1 Use the clothes brush
2.Try a nailbrush
3 Use her toothbrush
4.Look on the floor
5.Look in all the drawers in the huse
In the end she decided to pour some water over her head put on some oil , then push her hair into the direction she wanted
She putt on her red dress with a pattern of little books all over, a favourite of Stan, her late husband.Her shoes were peach coloured in homage to some artist who liked clashing colours.He was not good as an artist except for this ability to find the worst possible colours to put together.So he is known as Ned the Red and Purple
Suddenly the doorbell rang like a burglar alarm on heat.She opened the door and Dave the paramedic ran in
What’s wrong,Dave, she asked
I am being chased by a  big Siamese cat,he replied.
I can’t see  any cats, she said in  a kindly tone.Never mind,let me make you some coffee
Before she could close the door a big and lovely  cat ran in
Who are you,Mary asked him?
I am called Jeb, he told her.I like that man in the dress  so I want to ask him to adopt me.
OK said Dave.My cat died and I’ve  been too sad to  get another one.Are you  able to sleep  by me in bed
Definitely, said Jeb.It hs been my life time desire
All three sat down in the small but delightful  orange and lime kitchen watching Emile climb a tree.
I haven’t seen you lately,Dave said gently to Mary
No,I went to the hairdresser and my hair is so short it looks as if I am having chemotherapy.Still it was nice to be cossetted and it won’t need  much arranging  or blow-drying.
I suppose you could let the back grow before the winter,Dave told her
Yes, at least my head is cooler for the summer.It was hot when I went there so I assumed that would  carry on.But now it is colder.
How about wearing a hat?
Yes,I’ll ask Annie about that as she knows more about clothes than I ever shall
The phone rang starling Jeb who had been living in a field
Hello, this is Sister Mayflower from the bereavement group.
Hello,Sister.How are you?
I am worried because the other women were so unwelcoming.I have taken it over recently and recognise they are a closed group and it is 20 years since most of them were bereaved so they don’t want anyone to distress them by actually feeling sad.
Don’t worry about me.I only came because Annie my neighbour saw an advert for it and I did it to please her.
I see ,said Sr Mayflower.You can come to the Convent if you like.Just say Mayflower.
Thank you very much.Bye , bye, said Mary
Who was that, a nun? said Dave.Don’t tell me.I can guess,Several patients we’ve had have been there and were disappointed.They should call it tea and chat  except they don’t want any one new to join even in that.Odd as it is a Church based on the teachings of Jesus.Love one another.
Loving others may be harder than it sound,Mary mused scientifically
i feel much better , she said.I am playing the piano every day.I met 3 friends  for coffee and then went to the bookshop.I love sitting there looking at new books.And it’s nice not to have to cook every night
Mary got up ,oh dear, her trousers fell down
Good grief,Dave cried.You  have lost weight  and you are wearing red knickers!What next?
Yes, said Mary.Don’t you like them?
I am unsure.Shall I get some?
Just get 1 pair and see how you feel.I got mine in the Market.Otherwise Marks do purple and green ones,Mary murmured
Imagine all the old folk wondering around the  town might be wearing purple and green knickers. said Dave.It must make  washing hard as you can’t put them in the 60 degree wash.
I never thought of that, cried Mary, her blue mascara running down her face.
I’ve  read some women wear a  pair once and then throw them out
Well, they could cut them up and use them as dusters,Dave  mused.
Why not just by dusters and wear white or beige knickers? Life is hard enought without worrying about such trivia
My mascara is melting because my eyes keep watering.
Go and sit by the potted plants and let it fall on them,Dave said scientifically
Don’t be ridiculous, she said knowingly.I think it is hayfever or the pollution in town.The traffic was like a plague of giant  houseflies on wheels.All stuck still.
Well flies don’t keep still,Dave said.If they did we would kill them
I guess   there’s an accident ” on the motorway so they send  the cars down here.I wish they had kept the railways open as the roads are frightening with those big lorries with cars on the back.I used to be afraid one might fall off on us,Mary remininisced, when Stan drove me to the coast
The door opened and in dashed Annie from next door.She wore a dark wine track suit with a pale pink T shirt matching her lipstick from Yves de Beauvoir  McMorris of Paris and Wigan.
Hi Dave she said.I love that dress,Is it from Marks?
Yes, he answered.I like these cotton maxi dresses  in hot weather.
I can understand that ,she whispered.Trousers  are hot and if you wash  them they need ironing.People forget we sweat more in the heat
That’s fortunate,Mary said.Otherwise we would die
And so cry all of us except Jeb.Jeb never cries

The bereavement group

IMG_0459
This photo is copyright

The other women  sat and gawped
As if I’d looped  on the loop  on the loop
They didn’t want   another old face
In this  so called bereavement group

One had made a great sponge cake
The best I ever ate
She handed me a tempting  big slice
Though I’m already over-weight

One  cried out she felt distressed
I asked her  when  had he died?
21 years ago she said
And I am still half alive

I waited for the group to start
I’d been there for an hour
A group they cried, we came to chat
And they had all the power

The noise their  shrieking  voices made
Made my  head feel strained
I ate the cake and sat alone
Like a goldfish that fell down a drain

Up  I got and said,I’m off
The  nun in charge was pained
The talking stopped and I said, goodbye
I shall not be coming again

She tempted me with her rosary beads
She tempted me in vain
I  thought I knew what a group might do
But to these others it was not very plain

They’ve all been going for  so many years
It’s nothing to do with the brief
For surely if  it was, they would have been kind
To another lost person in grief

Now the hairdresser’s cut my hair very short
I look  like the chemo is strong
I didn’t look in the mirror for no-one is here
And  my image  has gone with the wind

Summer by the sea on the South Coast

IMG_0455Photo belongs to my sister,Copyright

The combination of flowers and seashore is  beloved by me.And the huts so typical of the English sea side all painted in different colours..June is best for wildflowers I imagine

Ate pi

 

Could you write a poem if you tried?
It’s just a few black patterns on the page.
I  wrote this villanelle  before I died

Would you write free verse,  just on the side?
Or would the lack of form  make you enraged?
Could you write a poem if you tried?

Do you like what manners like to hide?
Would you keep your black  dog in a cage?
I wrote this villanelle  before I died

Has your ink got all glued up and dried?
Does your writing not fit  on the page?
Could you write a poem if you tried?

Write alot and weep  when you decide
My cat and I have now become enraged
I wrote this villanelle  before I died

Do  not let the critics  bring out rage
At the worst, you start a brand new page
Could you write a poem if you tried?
I  wrote this villanelle  and then ate pi

Speed read literature? No.

Cardiocrinum_2018-2https://www.theguardian.com/books/booksblog/2009/dec/14/you-can-t-speed-read-literature

 

“Compare this classic Dickensian opening line with the skimmed version that follows, and ask yourself, is it really worth tearing through great prose like Gordon Gecko tearing through the assets of a newly acquired company?

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

– Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)

Best times/worst times, age wisdom/foolishness, epoch belief/incredulity, season Light/Darkness, spring hope, winter despair.

Charles Dickens, the skimmed version.

Notwithstanding the aesthetic pleasure derived from reading, how well can one appreciate the nuances of character and circumstance in a novel if one is reading 10 pages per minutes sans Bloomian comprehension skills? I’m not convinced that the average person can ever learn to read at speed and contemplate at leisure. Speed reading is a bit like trying to appreciate the sights of Paris while racing through the streets at 200 kmph.”

The Hebrews did not eat a great smoked ham

A bereavement group that feeds one cake and jam
And  has no limit  on the years  one can attend
Will never  teach us  of the great I am

The Hebrews may have offered God a lamb
Human sacrifice  was thought to have been banned
By a bereavement group that fed folk  hake and spam

Instead of saying “Fuck” they said ” Goddamn”
Indeed they thought that was what he  had planned
Who  might teach us  of the great I am?

The Hebrews did not eat a great smoked ham
There were no pigs in Sinai,understand?
Nor bereavement groups that fed folk in the sand

They smoked clay pipes and drank diluted jam
What the fruit was, I  shan’t say  unbanned
As they taught man  of the great I am

Soon the Lord  will hold up his right hand
Ask  our pardon for the world he runs
For  a bereavement group that feeds  all cake and jam
May  drop a hint about  the great I am

 

 

In our own Play

I realised something true  this very day
My defences were so strong I never thought
All of us , like Jesus,  end  our Play

If we are religious we might pray
Or offer consolation where it’s sought
I realised  death is real  this sunny day

We play the lead  and do not wish to pay
We may be frenzied in our appetites
Denying we shall   die  in our own Play

The vital  integrative force   must fly
We fall to  pieces in  love’s golden  light
I realised  death is   happening every day

Our heads turn round, the vision to deny
As if the true will be a nasty sight
But that won’t  stop our death in our own Play

Live by giving enemies no slight
Kant’s imperative seems wise and right
My mind discovered on  this  cloudy day
All of us  will fall  in our own Play

Will Mary have a party?

From my old blog:May 2012

Mary was sweeping the floor with her new Shark cordless electric carpet sweeper just replaced by Lakeland Plastics, that store beloved of British women.Emile was watching her from the lid of the old gramophone where he sat surveying the sitting room.
Leave that spider alone,he called to Mary
Why? she asked kindly,are you planning a date with it?
No,it’s a good thing to keep them as they may catch flies and other nasty things.
Mary turned and gazed at Emile.She was wearing some blue Tencel jeans and a bright pink top with embroidery round the neck.Her thoughtful face w as covered in Radiant Glow foundation as her friend Annie was trying to make her look more attractive to men.Which men was a puzzle as Mary liked to spend time alone or going out with her female colleagues to search for books on Dirac’s owl,Schrodinger’s cat or Godel’s ants.
Her male colleagues were mainly very conceited or shyer than rabbits brought up in the cliffs at Lyme Regis.
However Annie wanted Mary to marry again, as she saw her own vocation in life as being a mistress to a bright and intelligent retired man whose wife worked full time or was in the Library studying the Babylonian number system or other esoteric topics
.So she could help Mary and herself at the same time.
Shall we have a party,she chuckled to Mary as she came in through the ever unlocked back door.
What sort of party,Mary asked nervously.
I want you to meet some men,Annie reminded her.
I believe that like bombs falling on London in WW2,that if a man has your number on him he will find you,Mary teased.
Maybe your phone number,Annie retorted.Why don’t you get a spare mobile and I can put some posters with that number on the trees down the side roads saying you are looking for a new partner.
I thought I had made it clear that as some Orthodox Jews believe that Zion will only come when God wants it to do,so a man will turn up when it is God’s will.
That’s a bit much.Do you think you are God’s chosen person? Is God interested in finding you a new husband? Annie shouted.
Well,it may seem strange to you ,but even seeming trivia like me being married to some new man can have deep consequences for the whole world… a bit like the butterfly’s wings If I am happy it spreads around me and makes others happier too.Or if God wishes me to write a book and I need a man to cook for me then one will turn up,Mary responded in her low and musical Tyneside accent.
On the other hand, God may wish me to lead a contemplative life,she carried on.
Annie was puzzled.Why do you think God has all these plans for you,she enquired.
It’s not just me,said Mary.It’s everybody but that does lead into difficulties as we look at the world around us.Does God want all. these refugees to drown or for Britain to stay in the EU or leave and please Florenc Tonson? It reminded the women of their convent school classes where they had studied a simplified version of the writings of Aquinas and his proofs of the existence of God.
It was this book which had given Mary her first doubts about religion and, being somewhat dim in the tact department. she had shared her misgivings with the headmistress, who was not happy to be questioned even in front of mere school girls.
Emile,she cried,I wish I were a cat.My schooldays were so terrible
It’s your own fault, said Annie.I just pretended to believe it and kept quiet by fantasising about my new lingerie and how my boyfriend would like it
How remarkable it is that girls and boys can be so different in their personalities and ways of coping with puberty.

It was like a prison,Mary said.Still it made later life seem happier.
How did you afford new underwear so often,she asked Annie
I wore my mother’s! this dear friend informed her.
My mother didn’t have that sort of underwear,Mary told her.And see how something seemingly so trivial can affect one’s personal development so much.Still I was fed and allowed to study and play the piano and do my homework to the sound of Horace Wagner and Richard Straussbumt.
Did it help you to concentrate,Annie asked in a puzzled way.
No, it allowed my brother to dominate me and otherwise he might have hit me or knocked over the folding table where I kept my exercise books ,and pen ready to write essays on Twelfth Night and the periodic table.
Annie burst out laughing.Sorry,Mary,I am not laughing because you were bullied but it just sounded as if tables had periods,the way you said it.
Imagine how hard it was dealing with all that in a tiny house with the loo in the back yard.It was taboo so had to be concealed.When we went to Dublin for 2 weeks my three sisters and I all had our periods and we brought back all the blood stained cloths in our suitcases.Luckily the customs man did not look inside.
Was there nobody who could have burned them for you?
The landlady never mentioned it so neither did we.
No wonder I am so peculiar.
Well,I like you,said Annie.You are so kind and sympathetic and good to talk to.And you are always coming up with new ideas and interesting books.
I suppose we complement each other.Mary said shyly.Maybe we should get married and forget about men.
Annie’s eyes opened wide.
I think I’d better ring 999.she screamed.
And so say all of u

Rosa’s lilies

dscn0042

Charlie Blogge had gone away to visit his aged parents for a few days down in Cornwall so Rosa Benchez was alone except for her three cats and four houseplants which she had just brought indoors.Though she could have writtena  bit more in her book
Linguistics and Peace on Earth.
Can plants feel emotion? she asked her oldest cat, Lucy who was a pretty tortoiseshell
Definitely ,said Lucy.I have known plants to get depressed when in a dark corner.
Oh,dear,said Rosa,it’s the weekend so the surgery is shut.I hope these plants do not go into a downward spiral in their mood now that the days are shorter.I suppose I could ring 999 if they were desperate.
They won’t allow plants in the hospital,Lucy mewed.
Why not,asked Rosa angrily.That is sheer discrimination.We pay our contributions.
But the plants don’t pay ,do they.Lucy retorted cheerfully.Cats don’t get free healthcare either.
Socialism made a big mistake there, cried Rosa.Since the English prefer animals to people they would have won the  Election if they proposed free pet care on the NHS
Imagine, it would have created more jobs as well, she continues academically.And plant care is needed as plants can feel ill at times.
Yes,we can, cried the Peace Lily.I feel ill knowing there is not much peace in the world.
Humans don’t realise they may win a war but the conflict makes their health suffer even if they are too old to fight.And within families it is just as bad.
You are so right,Peace,Rosa said thoughtfully.We always assume it is our inner conflicts that make us neurotic or physically ill,but it may be that at the back of  our minds we are aware of all the wars, the refugees, the suffering.Outer conflict makes us all sick to some degree.And quarreling relatives and people who can’t apologise.
Do you have any rain water,Peace demanded.I feel thirsty.

nico-tondini-arabic-coffee-dubai-united-arab-emirates-middle-east
Is that enough,Rosa cried.I can make you some weak tea if you like.
Oh,go on then, the plant told her.Give me a teacup full of tea with no sugar. nor milk How about you, she carried on turning to her sister Pax.
OK.Pax told her.Whither  thou goest…
She’s Jewish,said Peace to Rosa.Her real name is Ruth.But nobody uses it as Pax is shorter.She won’t grow on the Sabbath,though.
Will you miss talking to the trees in the garden while you are indoors? Rosa asked, before any more Bible references were offered.
Yes,definitely.Can you buy a few tall,male looking plants like bamboo or even grape ivy?
We like a mixture.All living beings like a mixture of friends.
How about human friends or even cats,Rosa said tactlessly
Yes, as long as they talk in soft musical voices.And we don’t like to watch violent films on TV nor to see cats fighting on the sofa.,Peace informed her.Violence hurts our inner core
And so say all of us

Reading list for the harried

IMG_0122

The Walberswick Ferry by my husband about 1999

 

Death and menace
Death at tennis
Wrath  and Denis
Rest in Venice
Oliver tossed
Oliver’s pissed
Tulliver’s cost
Rhyme and punishment
Time is punishment
Time for more nourishment
The four tarts let
The four  hearts  set
The chaste land
The  paste and copy land
The chaste hand
The chaste wand
The last stand
The blasted  band
Anna Darelina
Leaf Encounter
The thief encountered
Brighton sucks
Brighton sticks
Light  now fixed
Light my wicks
Pause here. [ in French]
The candle ends
The Canterbury Whales
The sixty lies of Henry 8th
The Deformation  of Europe
The world war  has now finished but the trauma’s ne’er done
The  good wife was loved
The good life  and love

What surprise, we find we’ve writers ‘block!

From the sea, we see the land anew
We see  both  cities and the mountain tops
Far away, we note a different view

We stick to our routine as if by glue
What surprise, we find we’ve writers ‘block!
Sail far  from shore, to see this land  anew

Sea air  aids our minds  when   dead  thoughts stew
From the ocean we can see no clocks
Far away, we have a   timeless view

Then comes intuition with its clue
“Do not put your soul into the dock”
Glide far  from shore,  perceive the world anew

Then creative thoughts  in longing  queue
Or like the starling they will whirl  in flocks
From far away, we have a gentler view

New ideas are rarely found in books
All we have to do is  sense and look
From  the distance we see  wide and  real
From  far away, we see  new  worlds unveiled

Paradoxical pays!

Autumn 2013 008

 

http://www.wisdompills.com/2017/03/07/10-paradoxical-traits-highly-creative-people/

 

“The most important quality among creative people, says Csikszentmilhalyi, is the ability to enjoy the process of creation for its own sake.

Ask yourself how you can create classrooms, workplaces, families, and healing environments that value and support the gifts that the creative people you know have to offer.”