One heck of a nap.

I took one heck of a nap this afternoon and when I woke up, I looked at the wrong clock (the one that I had not turned back one hour yet) and thought half the afternoon had passed, but then I looked at the alarm clock and saw that I had lots of time left. I still had to take my medicines and walk the dog and proceeded to do so. When I came back, I had myself a wonderful cup of coffee and proceeded to read all the blog posts that I had not gotten around to these past few days.

I must admit that I skipped some, as I would have still been sitting here reading them, and I did not leave comments everywhere, because I was not feeling that original all the time and sometimes 25 other people already had said the same thing I would have said. I also had quite a few emails to answer and I got that done as well as I could. You do find yourself repeating yourself at times and feel like you are writing the same story over and over again, so I try to give a new twist to every one. I really need to follow a course in creative writing. No, I'd be too lazy to do that and then I'd have to do it in Dutch and that is not the language I write in.

Some sentences for the beginning of a story in Dutch just entered my head and I went and wrote them down. I will add more as they come to me. It is possible that I'm capable of writing in Dutch also. But I must not let it preoccupy my mind. The sentences must come naturally, as if by themselves. It doesn't matter how long it takes. The story will grow of its own accord.

It’s funny, sometimes phrases enter my head and they are like bits of poetry and I don’t know what they want to be, a poem or a short story. I’ve written lots of poetry in the past, but I think most of it was only somewhat good, if middle of the mote at best. You have a tendency to be really impressed with what you’ve written, until you read it again some years later and wiser and see the folly of it. I think I like writing Six Sentences, because that is just as far as my imagination carries me on a sustainable level. I don’t know if I could keep that up for a longer story. Maybe I can write a poetic short story and boil it down to six sentences and translate it into English. That would get me off the hook. What a solution.

I’ve got a whole map of poetry that I wrote 16, 17 years ago. It would be interesting to look through it now and see if anything could be done with any of the poems. If they could be reworked into short stories. Some of the ideas behind them are okay, but the expressiveness of them is kind of naive and faltering. I have no formal training in this kind of writing and the only help I had was a book on writing poetry that I barely glanced through, thinking I didn’t need it, being so sure of myself. Cocky is the word.

My mind was definitely in a different state then, I lived for the written word and was constantly one with nature all around me. I had to take only a few paces out of the house and I was in the forest with the trees and the creatures that lived there. I saw the raindrops on the leaves and the mist creep through the trees and heard the deer walk through the dried leaves on the forest floor. That’s where I was The Green Stone Woman and I never felt more emancipated as a living being, not as a woman, but as a living being, a creature on this earth and of this earth. I became somebody else there.

Looking back now, it was a very valuable time in my life, even though it was not an easy time. It allowed me to cut ties that bound me to my past. I hold the memories like treasures in my heart and hope to go back there some day again, although I doubt it will happen. It’s a magical place and maybe it is best if it only exists in my memory.

Well, so much serious pondering. I must end on a less serious note. I will tell you that I have to take out the trash. How is that for a bit of realism? It is my least favorite job and I often forget to do it and skip a week. That’s really no big deal, because all the trash is in plastic bags and I don’t have to worry about an overflowing bin.

Now I’m going to eat pea soup and watch some television. It will be a great way to unwind from this day and go to bed early. There’s nothing better than being tired and looking forward to going to a clean bed in clean pajamas with a good book.

Have yourself a good evening. I have creative therapy tomorrow morning. Hurray!

Ciao,

Nora