Forward in Time

Warning; goals, thoughts, emotions, deepest secrets, paths and paths not taken, turns and wrong turns taken, emotions, emotional, sadness and light.


“I would like to thank you all for gathering here to honour me in accepting this Best Writer Award.
Here stand I, humble and thankful for being here for you have become the rock that I lean on, the rock that makes my existence worthwhile and allowed.

Today I will share with you, my writing, a short passage as well as how I write, along with how I came to be here. This is a long twisting tale a tale with some surprising twists actually.

The start, high school I wrote for the joy of it, I wrote from the heart, I wrote from the scenes cascading in my head and struggled to keep up writing with pen and paper. There was the last piece, the short story of the wolf which was an assignment to write using anything involving the moon.

My turn came to read aloud my short story, there was silence a silence which I filled with the imagery that had formed in my mind, the short movie clip that I had captured on paper and now shared with my classmates, my peers.

Self doubt, misunderstandings, anger at what I thought I heard. Besides the praise two voices raised high a girl and the female teacher exclaiming what I misheard as plagiarism. Putting the Wolf Story in a book, I slammed it shut and walked out of the class, out of writing or creativity.

20 plus years later, I found that book and the long forgotten tale that had been written by my younger self. In anger I viewed that paper with shrill female voices accusing me of copying of plagiarism. As I was tossing my story in the trash, it landed face down and spying written words on the reverse side I picked it up and read the notes, 3 times.

What you listen to is not what is heard it is not what sometimes reality of voice but the darkness and self worth or lack of worth, overlaying words in your mind, misshaping words so you think you hear what was said but self doubt and lack of self worth have overlaid the scene with its own darkness tainting your mind, making you believe in the demons within. Self Talk is dangerous.

The words, simply and clearly stated that this was a wonderful piece written in the style of Farley Mowatt, but clearly my own work. Words to that effect, not what I had heard at all.

Round One went to the Demons within!

I do not remember the exact words to that short story though I had laboured over them for a week, I was happy and proud. Though to this day I only remember that the Alpha Wolves had howled at the moon. Into the darkness of time this story is lost.

Daring to allow myself to write again, to jot thoughts, emotions and short stories down again, allowing myself this denied and forbidden creativity to start flowing again. I began to write and create images with photography.

Enter my Ex Mother in Law, the ex demon in law, O what a harpy, a mouth of pure hatred with daggers for breath and vile thoughts spewing forth in my direction, her vexes upon my every deed, thought and work.

The Pen is indeed mightier than the Sword !

Everyday foul messages disguised as ‘Encouragement’ spewed forth from the fax machine, weekly mail brought deliveries of paper clippings with hand scrawled ‘Words of Encouragement’ arrived to drive the black nails deeper and deeper into my labouring heart and mind. Defeat.

Round Two went to the Demons within!

I stopped writing again, moved back to Ontario to start anew, though my mind was reeling from the repeated attacks, I retreated again, away from my creativity, away from joy within. Books and works left untouched, pixels left dangling and imagery left uncaptured, waiting, hoping to be allowed to escape from their self imposed imprisonment, allowed to lie neglected in sadness and darkness.

A few turns in the wrong direction and years again go by.

Round Three went to the Demons within!

Alone again, wishing to fill the void with anything but another woman or drink, images again demanded release onto the paper in the form of images and verse.

Slowly, I started writing then the images finally escaped the boundary’s self imposed, burst forth demanding resolution, demanding fulfilment of creativity, softening the darkness, light slowly filled the dungeon that had become my heart and mind.

Allowing myself to go with it, writing and creating images again were allowed to be my downtime, my alone times, my times of creativity and release. Slowly I struggled to attain not greatness but something else, I struggled to become me again. A worthwhile goal to be sure, though from the nails of darkness and demons howling, the me that was gone or long buried and dead.

Who is the me now? Dare I try to go back and pull that old self from the ashes of my history or tread to the forge creating a new self, hammer the ashes into solid mass, knead the broken steel in the flames of creativity to allow the self to rise from the flames and ashes allow the self to yet again soar.

For a time, it worked though lonesomeness drew me back to my past, I dug up old acquaintances, old passions, old memories allowing my fragile Psyche to believe in a past long gone, in emotions long quenched in the fickle, icy cold fingers of fate.

Round Three. Five went to the Demons within!

Crushed, defeated, deflated, alone, lonely broken heart anew, creativity flown and flung out. Struggling I turned to North American medicine, for my body had also created a prison this time, a prison of pain and sickness rotting the insides as the Demons had in the past rotted the heart, soul and mind.

Forcing myself, pushing myself, making fingers and thoughts mold stories, verse and post, helping others non stop in an effort to find some vestige of self worth, of the broken arrow, the broken sword that was once the warrior poet, the warrior writer, the warrior photographer the warrior of modern arms and tactics. I struggled anew, struggled for the very breath to breath, struggled to await each day the view of the sun rising, another day in this present.

Round Four went to a draw Demons within vs Broken Arrow of external self!

Draw! I stand at the Precipice of the void, the precipice of the long walk as it is known in the circles that I walk within. I stand looking at not one branch to the left and right but to a whole networks of paths, some off to the side, some at 90 degree angles to my bodies forwards direction, some directly ahead and some at right angles.

At war now, The Self at war, the body at war, the creativity at war, the very existence of the being at war, this is the reality of the ‘Draw’ ! A very fine line, a pause from a stagger, toes over the precipice of the void, the long walk enticing, filling the mind and nostrils with its darkness a darkness that pulls from within and out. The Demons push and pull, tugging and whispering in the darkness and light, soft words, angry shouts, cajoling phrases meant to lure and beckon the Broken Arrow, the Shattered Sword whisperings of new beginnings.

Tugging, my big puppy dog, tugs at my mind and heart, come play, come stay, come my pack leader stay here with me, stay and play. Tugging, thoughts of what my parents might feel, if at all of my passing hold my feet gluing me to the spot. Many acquaintances though only a few true friends, their encouragements and fears of disappointing them, glue my feet further into this spot.

Standing still, to make no decision is a decision in itself. For now I stay, the long walk may beckon but that is not a walk for now. Paths, which direction to go, frozen, steel wool headed from the Doctors pills, helping and poison at the same time. With the pills daily the void and darkness are pushed away, forced into a corner, sadly the same can be said of creativity, emotions, laughter, hope and thoughts. All stand in corners, a different void now exists a lack of creativity a lack of anything, I see, I observe, I sit, I stand but alas I do not go, no joining in, no action, nothing, there is nothing now only is there grey. Empty of Emotion is as bad as too much Emotion.

Again, Another Round another draw !

Through the fuzziness, the steel wool headed thoughts, slowly the self asserts itself, slowly. Pills every 3 days now not daily, pain is a friend for at least I feel something, slowly creativity of thought returns.

My mind conjurers up an imagery to lead me forward, down another path.

Sexy vs Sensual

Some people are sexy others are sensual, some thoughts are sexy while some are sensual, some writing is sexy along with the lifestyle, I choose Sensual though. Sensual is awareness of self, sensual is desirable by all. Slowly my mind makes sense of my writing and my creativity, sensual is the path to follow.

Writing begins again, photography begins again, creativity returns all due to a long forgotten image of two Women in a crowd of people. All there know each other, almost all are friends, all are gathered in friendship. There are four women who stand out, two are beauties through and through who are lovely and sexy to behold. Two are nice, sensual and fully desirable, all look at the sexy women, but all including the two sexy women desire the two sensual beings in their midst. Neither fit the norm of beauty, neither are considered gorgeous but surrounded by other women, some beautiful some dumpy, some frumpy looking, some look very similar, the two who stand out are the two Sensual Women of incredible self worth, women who exude confidence and Sensuality from within.

Sexy vs Sensual

Choose, choice for my life, choice for my creativity, choice for my writings, Sensual, memorable. To write as if the dawn broke anew every day in all its golden glory shining onto you and everything around you.

Round One went to the Light, to the Sensual Creative within !

We are all here today, writers, photographers, all creatives, I say choose wisely but choose the Sensual Creative Within. Choosing sensuality is what brought me here today, choosing sensuality is why this award is mine today. Choose wisely and keep the Demons out, the self talk out, push others of negativity away, allow yourself the luxury of sensual creativeness to be your path.

Thank you for taking the time to honour me with this award as well as taking the time to listen to my story.

Walk in Peace, Walk in the Light, Walk the Path of Self, never allowing the Demons from within or others to Darken YOUR Soul and Minds. “


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Filed under Blog post, Writing, Writing Free Form

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