Back on the Ink!

Pic from: flight404.com

WHOA! It's been that long already?!

In reference to the Indie Ink Challenge, I haven't joined in with that raucous bunch of writers who I’ve grown to admire and miss since not signing up since the first week of May. Ok, so a month has gone by and I’ve had a break from posting my work online (which means I’ve been writing in secret) and I feel like I need to be surrounded by amazing talent once again and the easiest way to do that from the comfort of my desk is via the, CHALLENGE!

That said I have kept up with 'writings' from a few ‘Inkers’ out there but not as intensely as I would if I was in the fray myself, so I’m back! I signed up this morning and will be looking out for the usual prompts emails from the website editors.

Why would I blog about something I’m going to do like a redundant Facebook status update?! Because I’m excited, especially about writing spontaneously and being pushed to stretch my powers of creativity.
I think a month without the II-Challenge is long enough!

Blog gaps

Pic from: nsecertas.blogspot.com

The gap between blogs May/June isn’t down to breaking the base of several metacarpals or damaging capitates, it’s not because the world suddenly ended and I’ve come back from the future to devise a way to tell everyone why in one fell swoop whilst at the same time prevent it from happening – I’m not dazed or depressed, worried or confused, going through an early mid-life crisis, addicted to internet shopping or denouncing the benefits of using words because they get in the way of actions – nooope! None of the above.

Getting involved in a personal project and taking time out to immerse myself within it has taken me away from blogging. When I say personal project I’m not talking primarily about writing either. It encompasses so much more that I can’t begin to express it and the only other person who is aware, although not completely, is my HoneyChops (loosely translated means ‘girlfriend’ but sounds more like a tasty meal, which works too).

All that aside, I have missed blogging as well as joining in with the collective at Indie Ink. The upside to writing under the II banner is that it keeps you writing, keeps you pushing to be creative and allows you to sample work from other writers. People give their opinions on your work and you can comment on theirs and it’s a nice arena to go absolutely crazy to play around in. So … I just convinced myself to go back to it soon. Sometimes I don’t need to talk myself into something, I can always write myself into it instead.

In relation to the II-Challenge I have only been following two other writers although there are usually over thirty or so to choose from. If I had the extra time to read the rest I would, and that’s not to say that the two I follow are any better than everyone else but, I like the way their pieces flow, so I find myself on their blogs reading their work. The two I’m referring to are Jan/Janani and Lisa aka RandomGirl.

I paused for about ten minutes after the last full-stop to read several other blog entries from other IndieInkers, it just felt right, at the time.

You could say I’m back in my blogging seat but I can’t officially say that I’ll be staying here and I’m not trying to say that I’m taking down my blog or moving to pastures green, I’m just saying that every now and then I’ll call “cut” and take a small break, just not a three week long hiatus.

I just read all of that back to myself and it sounds like I’m addressing followers to my blog numbering in the hundreds, thousands – the reality is 16, but there’s a lot to love about reality.

What's the point of writing a diary when you have a blog?

Pic from masterfile.com

 

It's funny what crosses my mind sometimes. Someone said to me the other day: "I like reading your blog. I don't see you often so reading it lets me feel like I've actually spoken to you on some level." I think hearing that made me meditate (I only used that word because I was trying to avoid using, 'think') on the importance of writing a blog against the need to write a diary for personal reasons. Like, writing a diary brings me closer to myself, or at least that's where I flew towards, mentally.

Yesterday I spent several hours spring cleaning my life, and by that I mean, going through over ten years worth of documents and filing away all the important bits.

I ended up with two bags of rubbish and a much more organised Foolscap box file containing my most important transactions and information, including a unicorn about the size of a knuckle (I can still hear it trotting around in there, its hoofs tapping the metallic interior).

         Pic from supertommy.com

It may appear as if I digress but, all the time I spent streamlining paperwork, I wanted to write a blog; even a quick one. I've neglected my diary for over a month which is stark in contrast to writing in it every day until March 13th. Writing on my blog had filled the gap of not consulting my diary and I felt like I didn't need it, plus it was a rough time for my family that came with a bunch of memories I'd rather ignore.

It would seem like a diary is irrelevant wouldn't it?

The answer is no.

What chance do I get really, to use a pen; ever?!
Writing in its truest sense has become a dying art form. It's easier to type than ink our thoughts. We can save, delete, cut & paste, amend, underline, spell check and so on ...
Who would want to use a pen for anything than to sign a cheque?

Keeping a diary is the realist opportunity I have to write authentically. I'm going to viciously defend that option because, when you get to the heart of what I'm saying, you'll appreciate the purity in writing.

Soucred from: andeanfarmerofdreams.blogspot.com

Keeping a diary, or writing with pen/pencil shouldn't be avoided at all. I totally support this ideal as well as cherish the emotional and creative outlet I have with my blog. As important a learning tool my diary is, my blog rests next to it on the shelf.

Like Omar once said: "There's nothing like this ..."

Click here for a little clarity!

Can't sleep, so I write

You learn a lot when you do nothing sometimes.
Observation is a powerful tool. Used well it'll give you insight into anything. An old university lecturer once told me; "... you have the ability to make sense of everything because there is nothing you do not know ...", or something like that. I thought I knew what he meant until I really set myself aside and applied the theory.
I've decided to become a mirror. The only way to do that is to be still and do nothing without allowing anyone to realise I'm doing it.

This isn't tired talk, this is wide awake talk.

Freewriting

"So, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke is what you're saying?"
"No, he threw something on the floor, it made a popping sound and he was engulfed in smoke. When the smoke cleared he was gone."
"I thought that's what's I said?" James rubbed his temple out of frustration. Two days out of the academy and his first case was shaping up to involve magicians or ninjas, or both.
"Look if you don't believe me there are other people on the platform you can ask."
With no other choice, James took several more witness statements, all saying roughly the same thing: A man dressed in black from head to toe was seen running silently along a platform at the Canary Warf DLR station. His face was shrouded apart from a gap revealing only his eyes which looked as if they had a faint glow to them.
None of the statements were given with any real certainty. Everyone seemed to be talking as if they'd imagined the whole incident but was sure it happened.

Writing out of a funk

I'm often accused of not sharing my feelings; I keep my thoughts to myself and rarely open up to people, even those close to me.
Accept this as me being a canvas and what you're about to read is as good as what's going on in my head right now.
I've realised that the current pain I'm in, caused by carrying this annoying double hernia is being escalated by my mental state. The pain feels tons worse than it did in the last couple of weeks but true to form I've kept that quiet.
I believe now that the current circumstances I'm in regarding my personal life are making the pain more and more intense. The same thing happened a few years ago and resulted in some severe back pains and insane sciatica.
What the remedy was evaded me for quite sometime until one day I powered up my laptop and started writing about it and anything else on my mind at the time.
It was as though the pain in my joints, bones and muscles was flowing down through my fingers, onto the page but more importantly out of my body. It was an excellent pain relief but I didn't fully believe in it, so every time I stopped writing for longer than a few days the pain would come back.

Like most people, I have to 'feel' to believe and I was feeling a hell of a lot around that time in my life, kinda like the way I'm feeling now. Writing makes me happy, whether it's a page or paragraph, words to a novel I've already started, or anything that pops into my head.

If you have something that makes you happy and it's not hurting you or any body else, find a bit of time away from distractions and just get on with it.

23rd January 2011

OH NOOOOO!

I didn't write a blogpost yesterday. Admittedly I was out all day and haven't figured out how to send posts from my BlackBerry so instead of writing something I enjoyed a nice day out with the missus and caught a movie towards the end of the day.
The plan is to review the movie between now and tomorrow so, stay tuuuunnnnnnned!

Peace and bubble wrap!

All arms and fingers

Dean lifted his leg off the bed and dangled it in the air, doing the same thing with the other leg whilst using his core muscles to pivot his body around to face the edge to the bed. It wasn't a great distance to the floor and he hit legs-first not feeling anything until he braced himself with his hands.
Over the weeks and months upper body strength had increased and the need to use tons of energy to get in and out of the house wasn't necessary.
He looked up and smiled at being able to get to the top bunk. The doctors said that there would be some residual feeling from the waist down but today wasn't a good day, it didn't matter much, he'd conquered the bed, refused for the moment to get in the chair, and pulled himself into the living room.