When people ask me what my favourite colour is, I never know what to answer with. I cannot possibly just pick one colour.
I do not just like colours because they are pretty, but because of what they symbolize and remind me of. That makes each of them special to me.
If I am made to choose, I tend to go with blue. Not a standard blue but cerulean or navy, something rich and dark or darker. Blue reminds of the ocean, of the salty breeze in the air and the lapping of the waves on the sand. It also reminds me of my mom as it is one of her favourite colours which she incorporates into her art. The colour blue is special to me because it is special to her as well.
Grey is a dull colour according to many, (including my mom) but it reminds me of clouds, and days inside. I love rainy days and the bursts of creativity they bring with them, which the colour grey reminds me of.
White is a very modern colour that goes with just about anything. Everything in my room is the colour white, which gives it somewhat of an empty look if you were to take everything out of it. However the colour allows me to fill up the room with my own colourful creativity which stands on the milky coloured walls.
The colour red is a one that I actually do not know how I feel about, but am including nonetheless. Red to me is such a passionate colour, and a colour I used to hate with a passion. Recently it has been creeping into my life in little ways and I have grown to like it, as I have become passionate about a few things myself.
Here is my answer.
Poetry is magical.
Just a few choice words are able to paint murals in the minds of millions, taking readers on emotion-filled adventures. Poems can take ugly truths, big ideas and even mundane daily activities, turning them into something of beauty. Writers are able use words and literary devices to illustrate their ideas, requiring reading between the lines and thinking outside the box to decipher the author’s intent and message. It is able to give humans a sense of fulfillment in whatever lacking, and answers to some of life’s many mysteries.
However, more often than not, poems leave you with even more questions than when you first started reading. More mysteries than when you first opened that dust covered book on a Saturday afternoon, the papers rustling with whispers of merriment.
I remember when an eraser was my best friend. With a few strokes, that unplanned line was long gone, or a misspelled word had vanished from my page.
I loved writing in pencil because nothing was “set in stone”. You had unlimited do overs, infinite lives.
Now, note the past tense, loved. Because while I used to bask in the idea of erasing it all away, I learned that (figuratively and literally), mistakes can be good.
I now write in pen, for most of what I do. I love seeing where I started with something, versus where I end up.
Mistakes and ideas can be built upon and turned into something beautiful, even better. Not everything has to be picture perfect, so don’t hide your mistakes.
Recently I have not been writing that much poetry, but the other day I had a little burst of creativity and wrote whatever you would call the collection of words below me. Since it was a first time in a while that I had written something I thought I would share. Here is a bit of writing that you could probably call a poem that is very much a work-in-progress.
I see like a camera.
The little things catch your eye.
Naturally normal, borderline boring.
Then, a change in perspective.
An idea in focus.
Suddenly the leaves on the trees
are not what they are
but what they could be.
The bright wall splattered with paint is
an escape from reality.
The people walking by are not simply that,
but the stars of short stories
captured in RAW format.
A flick of a wrist,
a hint of a smile.
Red scarf in the wind,
Converse on her feet,
a look of wonder and fear
both trying to compete.
Someone’s movement and magic
captured in time,
ready to keep going
if we use our mind’s eye.
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.” – Rita Dove
In case you did not know, it is World Poetry Day! Today we celebrate all of the past, present, and future poets along with their work. Poetry is a big part of society as it is a form of art that can bring to light many different issues, and it also helps people to be expressive in an interesting and entertaining way.
Put some time aside and pick up a book, either to read someone else’s written creations or to try and come up with your own.
I know what I will be writing, as well as reading…
Woah. It has been a year.
On September 7th of 2015, I started this blog. And now I am here, a year later. Time has flown by, at least through my eyes.
I have posted a total of 19 posts, with many more to come.
I would like to give thanks for all of support from everyone who has read my blog. You are a big part of the reason I do what I love, writing.
Me: Has nothing to write about.
Me: Writes about having nothing to write about!
But all and all aside, I did not have anything to write about for the past few days…. So I decided to make a post about things to write about! If you have writers block or are just out of inspiration, come check out my list and hopefully it will help…. But more not.
- Puppies! Or pets, everyone loves animals.
- Your favourite book
- Technology, how about a product review?
- You gotta love rocks.
- Social Media… And how the Internet will take over.
- The fact that even teenagers think Donald Trump will ruin the world
- Chocolate (yum)
- That Sherlock comes out only every two years, the wait is painful
- Plants, succulents, daises, grass, trees, bushes, cactuses, sunflowers, Venus flytraps, evil tulips
- Colouring books for adults…. Which are insanely priced
- Adidas Superstars which everyone and their cousin seems to have
- Light-up, water filled, colour changing speakers
- That pencil collection you had in first grade
- Losing your pencil collection
- Losing your keys
- Losing your marbles
- Losing your sanity
(If you have not noticed, yes some things in this list were exaggerated, and yes this list is a bit of a joke.)