Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

"Snowfinity ..."

@2012 Copyrighted Photograph.  All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.

“Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow”

To put to rest a sleepless night
Mother Nature sends our way
A blanket glowing pristine white:
Shimmering fractals interweave
The world about in innocence anew;
Whilst weeping hearts eagerly
Greet a thoughtless reclination,
A sleep, at last, lost to hibernation.
So yield the weary, drinking willfully
From nature’s over-brimming chalice
Of sweetest icy, silver-thorned libation.
And with a single sip the world resigns,
With awe-inspiring, albeit silent
Resignation, to peacefully renew:
Awaiting the robin’s timely return,
With Kiss of Life to sleeping trance undo.

@2013 December, Copyrighted Poem. All Rights Reserved:  Isabelle Black Smith.

Thoughts on 'Nothingness'

 

“It occurs to me that my present endeavor to complete another novel is, in truth, ‘nothingness’ until it reaches its completion.  For only upon the actual completion of and sharing of my story will it bear any worldly merit.  From the latter perspective, the undertaking of the endeavor to write a novel is perhaps painted in rather a daunting, if not outright unfavorable light then, is it not?  Surely such a task is not to be undertaken by the faint of heart, or those who be in constant need of worldly recognition.  Furthermore, given the limited likelihood of widespread acceptance and recognition in the event of actual completion, the payoff for the completion of a novel, in and of itself, is not much of an incentive for embarking upon such a potentially fruitless undertaking in the first place, is it?  So perhaps, the writer … much like all other forms of artisan … is in a very real sense ‘mad’ from the world’s  perspective just for having entertained the notion of beginning to create his art, in the form of written words residing within a novel, in the first place.  The writer is labeled ‘mad’ even before he begins his task and so he remains long after, until he breeches the waters of his works completion.  For it be only upon delivery of the finished work that the poor writer has any chance of surrendering his cap of ‘madness’ for that of true ‘artist’, or if he be truly lucky:  celebrated ‘genius’.  The latter being said, it also occurs to me, that in the process of endeavoring to create the ‘tangible’ –that which the world is capable of grasping on some generally base level of understanding—I am weaving a wealth of tapestry in an understanding of exploration into thoughts, emotions, ideas … making unique connections and insights along the way which will become the very threads of this woven tapestry of exploration … my tapestry of exploration.  And while the latter process is by worldly standards ‘intangible’, I find it immensely ironic that when my body ceases to house this spirit knowing that is the true me –whether my written efforts meet with worldly approval in the end or not-- my ‘intangible’ tapestry will clothe me on my journey into the next life --my reincarnation, if that be the will of our Creator.  Suddenly, in a spiritual sense, the ‘immaterial’ becomes ‘material’.“ ~Isabelle Black Smith

 @Copyrighted, April 2013, Isabelle Black Smith and Michelle C. of whatplanetareyoulivingon . blogspot . com.  All Rights Reserved.

Think I’ve just written the forward/introduction to my novel?  Thank you to whoever prompted my thoughts on the topic of ‘nothingness’ in the first place.  You know who you are.

All The World's But a Stage ...

via Costumer's Guide Library

[Love this photo ... Pretty much sums up my relationship w/Ken. We seem to be out of time with one another spiritually speaking
--w.r.t. soul experience-- but we fell in love with each other long ago, nonetheless.  Time will tell if our love can stand the test of time? ]

"All the world’s a stage" … How often, glancing through the chronicles of time, do we not see the same stories played out again and yet again? The same stories of love, triumphs and losses, played out with different costumes, different actors and the semblance of an accepted set of rules for a given period in time … but the heart knows no rules? I have to wonder does the script choose actor or the actor the script? I’d like to think that if we can hold onto that which we are born into this world with—the only thing we perhaps rightfully own—that the material then becomes immaterial.


“All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

~William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII [All the world's a stage]

Image Source

But oh how this world will try ever so desperately to take this most precious possession from you ….

It would seem, I have a lot writing to do?



P.S. Wrote this early in the morning (early for others ... late at night/not having slept for me)after watching "Anna Karenina" ... Had forgotten that the Oscar's were to be this day.  So my post here fits rather nicely for the day? I have a lot of movies to watch ... I did happen to see the movie "Argo", yesterday, at least.  Great movie!  And "Anna Karenina" won for best costume design, so I guess I chose well : ) 

My new favorite word ...

My new favorite word:  Quixotic.  Such a fabulous word, wouldn't you agree????? Love it!

..."extravagantly chivalrous or romantic" ...

Now there's something you don't often find nowadays?

I've always wanted to read this tale, "Don Quixote", by Cervantes.  Might just be my next read.



Happy almost FRIDAY, ya'll!  Do something impulsive ... quixotic.... to celebrate.


Going to get lost in my words today.  Always amazes me how I so totally loose all connection with Time when I'm playing with words. 



Peace & Love,

~M




Song:  "Don Quixote", Gordon Lightfoot

Song:  "Shake It Out", By Florence and the Machine  ... (Came across this song today.  Reminds a bit of the dream I had --wrote about- about the moon the other night and my life in general, where the second girl in the tree at the end would be my inner child.)

A poem to go with this song & video ...


“Sweetness of Surrender”


You speak to me finally with two faces, I see:
The hidden nature of your own conflicting duality?
My own subconscious mind finally awakened …
Now conscious to past regrets long since mistaken.
Reconnecting against better judgment’s worldly reason.
Seeking truth for confusion’s swirling thoughts of treason.
Opened and vulnerable, on my knees I bleed once more.
Unworthiness and doubt the seeds of my neglected store.
In childish hopes of finding a long held wanting of release,
My Inner Child rises to grant unanswered chaos final peace.
With her grace, illusion is at last with liberation forcefully shattered …
Together, we two, now step forth to embrace the truly mattered.
The Life we seek comes from up above and infinitely all around.
In surrender there is an indescribable peace that will never be found.

@Copyrighted Poem, August 2012. All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.




A friend of mine said she loved this poem, but did not understand the last line.  So here is the explanation:   Yes, the last line can be confusing, because it is our human nature to always "think", "reason" and "seek" ... What I meant here was that indescribable peace cannot be found by us, it finds us when we are finally ready to surrender to it ... like an innocent child : )  ... But maybe you were able to figure this out all on your own?

Musical ART?

Rough day for words today; hence, I am taking a short musical detour.  My daughters introduced me to this song ... I don't really care for the lyrics on this one, though I suspect many could probably relate to them?  I love the musical arrangement on this song though ... kinetically kool.  Kind feels like you're being pulled into the song and led along by the unique musical arrangement of notes ... bread crumbs ... as the story unfolds, drawing you deeper into the fabled fairy wood. 

The music video that goes with this is pretty cool too.  Music videos usually bore me, but this one held my interest.  Good match for the song, in my humble opinion.  Anyhow, thought I'd share this intriguing piece of musical piece of ART.  Change it up here ... You know me:  I gotta stay outside the box ; )

Peace & Love,

~M


Song:  "Somebody That I Used to Know", By Gotye
[Did some reading on this artist.  A most ineteresting and determined, not to mention talented, individual.  Wondering at his nationality was my initial inclination for looking him up.  I was thinking Belgian (though he was raised in Austraila) for some reason and what do you know:  I was right?  Here's an interesting mini-doc on his album "making mirrors".]







Hmmm ... maybe my subconscious mind led me back to this song?  My problems writng today center around filling in some of the back story for my novel ... the mushy love and relationship stuff.  I have no trouble with the action and adventure or the technical aspects of the story ... things that require unbridled imagination or technical thinking.  It's the real world, relationship stuff that kills me.  Takes me 10x as long to compose the latter over the former.  Love: my ultimate nemesis?




9/21/2012 ... Think that it is not Love which is my ultimate nemesis, but rather it is Trust which eludes me.  And it would seem that Trust is perhaps a necessary foundation for Love?  Is Trust necessary for all forms of Love, I have to wonder, or just the romantic kind?  Trusting others or myself ...

Happy Birthday Blogger!

Happy 10Th Birthday Blogger!

Quite an accomplishment! Thank you all, for providing an alternative to Face book, and the like, where some actual thought can occur. Leading a busy life, coping with the challenges of parenthood -- most challenging job of my life to date! -- and not having much time to myself, Blogger has a been a great place for me to vent and to see what others are actually thinking too.

I have no delusions that legions of people actually care what I think, or happen to say -- there's just too much glittering competition out there to compete with -- but being able to reflect on my life and the world around me -- to clear my head -- has been good for me. And just maybe, from time to time, what I have to say might make its way to just the person that needs to read it (e.g., Children: Opening our Hearts and Minds, November 3, 2008, Label: Abortion).


Writing my Blog has also made me aware of the fact, that I actually do enjoy writing -- go figure? And this realization has inspired me to take some of the many stories, rattling around in my head, and formalize them into the sci-fi thriller (book) that I am very near to completing. Once I finalize the publication details, I'll see if I can post some chapters on my blog. Until then, keep up the great work! Love all of the new tools, gizmos, and gadgets. My eleven year-old has fun trying the latest gadgets out and updating my blog for me. You guys rock! As my youngest says, "Peace, out!".



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