Today I...

...wrote a poem.

For the first time in a very long while. I used to write poetry often, enraptured with the sounds words make against each other in verse (be it blank, or rhyming), and then I just...didn't.

My love of words didn't go away, I remain the pedantic perfectionist when it comes to words and meaning, spelling and grammar. I still wrote/write prose, short stories, a novel, began two other novels ('began' is misleading, perhaps. Each is thousands of words, loosely organised, but nowhere near finished). I'm re-editing the novel, for what seems the forty-lebbenth time.

But the urge for creating poetry went into abeyance. Not sure why. I don't even remember exactly when. Five years ago? Probably closer to ten.

This morning a phrase popped into my head. Followed by another. As I wrote them down, my hand remembered the joy of that, the sheer pleasure of word after word, not telling a story, but capturing (or attempting to capture) a fleeting moment or thought. A flavour, if you will.

I have twelve lines of joy.

Perhaps there will be more.

Drawing day four

Drawing day four

Spent most of today attending a funeral (a friend's father died), so not very productive. I did find time for a drawing this morning, though.

I'm finding this blog is renewing my interest in writing, too, as well as kicking starting the visual creative thing. Yes, I write, too, mostly short stories and poetry (though not so much poetry the last few years) and I have the first draft of a fantasy novel completed. I started editing and rewriting it, then had a couple of short stories rejected by a publisher and lost my mojo.

I think it's found its way home.

I dragged out the first draft of the novel and reread part of it. It needs a lot of work, but you know what, it ain't a total stinker. Perhaps I'll sit down and reread it in its entirety and start working on it again.