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 A new blog to contain answers to prompts |
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas "  became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one. Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.  |
| Prompt: "I'd rather be kind than right." Vince Gill Write about this quote in your Blog entry today. -------------- The saying, "I'd rather be kind than right," may be true in some or most cases, but I wouldn't bet on kindness being more beneficial to a person who hasn't realized his wrongdoings and keeps repeating them. That person has to be warned, however gently. On the other hand, there's a different way of looking at this situation. But first, this, as my personal experience: After meeting with some truth-advocate, important person, one of my sons decided to always tell the truth and not hold anything back. This went on for several months. Although, I did appreciate his truthfulness, I felt he had turned into a harder, harsher person, but I didn't correct him for the simple reason that he was 49 years old at the time and wouldn't take much criticism from his old mother anyway. In about a year or two, my truth-blaring son lost quite a bit of friends due to his extreme directness. Luckily, later, he met a new girlfriend who, I believe, gently goaded him to hold his tongue, at least to a degree. Nowadays, my son is still truthful, but he is also considerate and has learned to hold back his extremely truthful opinions to himself much better. Just watching my son go through such an experience showed me that such overt truth-telling can make the others feel that being wrong can be a threat. This experience and others like it also demonstrate that where interpersonal relationships are concerned, kindness, rooted in empathy and understanding has a much greater value than the blind chase for correctness. This is because kindness is the best bridge between people. When we approach others with kindness first, we create for them a safe space for openness and vulnerability This leads to a richer exchange of thoughts and feelings. active listening, acceptance of differences, and a deeper appreciation of other ideas. To me, this is much better than hurting another person with the truth. Surely, there will be moments when kindness can feel like a sacrifice, especially when confronted with ignorance or hostility. Yet, we must keep in mind that a kind response may have the power to soften hearts and open minds, So why not do things the easier, gentler way? That is, do them with kindness and be truthful, too. |
| Prompt: "People come into our lives for a reason." Write about this in your Blog entry today. ----------- I'm not sure if the people we meet and connect to, in any shape or form, were predetermined for an unknown godly reason. Yet, human connections are significant, be it they may be brief or enduring or joyful or painful. All of them add to our growth and understanding in some way. In my own life, friends have appeared just when I needed support or a teacher (or rather someone acting as a teacher) introduced me to a new way of thinking, or a total stranger's kindness made me happy and restored my belief in humanity. Often, I found out the meaning of what happened in hindsight; that is, after I felt healed or loved or learned something important about life or myself. Come to think of it, there may be a quiet order in the chaos of our relationships with other people. This may not be predestined but rather holding a potential to awaken something in us. I sense, it may be to help us through a difficult time, to teach us love or betrayal, to inspire creativity, or best yet, to bring out into the open the boundaries we didn't know we needed. Again, in my case, each person leaves an imprint. That person may be a writer who did or didn't live in my time but what he or she wrote impressed me. As for others, even when our relationships ended,--be it through death, misunderstanding, or any change in locations or interests-- the idea that I had a give-and-take with that person has offered me comfort. In other words, whatever happened at the end didn't erase the meaning of our time together. Best yet, this saying is positive as it invites gratitude. It encourages me to look beyond things, such as coincidences or misunderstandings, and I end up believing that there might have been a purpose in the relationship. Then, just maybe, that connection or the short-lived link to each person who has entered and still enters my life may be part of a much larger life lesson, similar to a word in a very long sentence. That is...if life is a sentence!   |
| Prompt: Favorite wild animal Which is your favorite wild animal? If that animal could speak and write what would its autobiography say? ---------- I love all animals, even snakes, but I wouldn't really go near or pet a snake. The same, more or less, goes for all wild animals. Yet, if I have to make a choice, the kind of animals I love the most are the cats, big or small, wild or tamed. I don't know what the autobiography of a big cat would say, but when I witness a wild large cat, even in a documentary, I feel a deep awe. I think they are so perfect despite their evolution through the ages. No wonder they are in our mythologies and are feared and revered at the same time. Unfortunately, I don't like what we humans do to them. I especially hated it when we visited several different zoos, way back when. I still recall the sight of a very upset, emaciated lion in a cage. I think it is beyond cruelty to take those animals from their natural environments and imprison them so heartlessly. After all, each species of the large cats are marvels. And they do adapt and keep the balance in their ecosystems. I see them as the guardians of nature, with their untamed spirits. They have grace, raw power, and perfection. The lion, with his shaggy mane is regal and he has social power over his tribe. When he roars, the ground vibrates. He and his tribe are hunters but their hunting is strategic with communal togetherness. The tiger, on the other hand, has a more solitary path for he is the solitary hunter. His fur has a unique pattern and it serves as a camouflage. A Bengal tiger in a bamboo thicket or a Siberian tiger moving as fluidly as smoke through the pines is a splendid sight. That is, if you can catch that sight! Also, I have to mention the leopard, the jaguar, and the cheetah. All these cats are slinky and fast, with cheetah wearing the crown of fastness. They can climb trees with agility and when they wish, they stalk in the shadows like ghosts. They all have powerful bites, too. All these big, beautiful, wild cats with strong instincts have elegance and power, and in my opinion, they are the untamed, yet magnificent, heart of our planet. |
| Prompt: Foods in Autumn Which fall foods and drinks are your favorites? Write about the foods most people enjoy during autumn. And if you wish, do you have any recipes to share? ----------- When it comes to food, I am not picky, but with autumn, pumpkin anything takes the front row. Yet, it is not the only thing that makes my mouth water and my eyes shine. Let me begin with soup. Soups are rich and they warm my soul. I'm a fan of soups at any season. And I always freeze in a plastic container some kind of excess soup for later. I like creamy wild mushroom soup (if I can get wild mushrooms), French Onion Soup, with melted cheese on top, all kinds of lentil soups, all delicious, hearty, and deeply satisfying. Surely, then, are the abundance of fall vegetables and Thanksgiving turkey. Truthfully, I am not a fan of turkey at any other time, but there's something special to be with one's family and carve the turkey at the Thanksgiving dinner table. Then, who doesn't love the serving of the stuffing, potatoes, and cranberry sauce, with possibly a joke or two to spice the meal, even more? Furthermore, I did say pumpkin first, didn't I! Pumpkin spice muffins and apple cider or a delicious pumpkin pie...How about that? Also, pumpkin spice baked oatmeal in the morning. This is because autumn food offers inspiration and the use of cinnamon, nutmeg, an cloves. Once upon a time, I made a pumpkin pie mixed with shredded apples and it became a favorite for my family. Plus, I can't pass by without mentioning our pumpkin bread. For me, it always is autumn's culinary best. |
| Prompt: What if a massive storm wipes out technology, thrusting society into a new dark age without electricity and internet? What would happen to you, then? Could you survive it? ------------ I guess I would survive it, but barely. As long as paper and pencil or pen would be available, but I bet during such a catastrophe, even those things would end up being luxury items. On the plus side, I'd go to bed as soon as it got dark outside and wake up as soon as the morning dawned, in which case, that could be an improvement. Yet, I'd miss the search engines, WdC, reading online or listening to books, not to mention my appliances and household items that work with electricity. Come to think of it, I can't imagine doing an entire laundry by hand. What I wouldn't miss would be the recent gauche handling of AI, by my email and internet company, Microsoft, and other companies that I deal with almost daily. I guess there wouldn't be phones anymore either, so no waiting on the phone for eternity for some agent from one company or another to answer, if only to put me on hold. Still, even though I carp a lot about people and companies mishandling AI, I think I am--just like most of us is--seriously addicted to technology. And I hope, in no time, whatever is making people deal wrongly with something so useful as technology can wear out, and people and businesses learn the most effective ways to deal with the technological advancements to make our lives better. |
| Prompt: Write your entry about supernatural happenings...from the POV of a character’s pet. Have fun! ------ Noche's Tale of the Midnight Veil They called me or rather the jet-black color of my fur, a bad omen. They whispered and clutched their charms when they saw me snoozing on Joy's lap as Joy defended my honor to them. But the truth is, I’m not the one they should fear. My name is Noche, and I am older than my paws suggest. I’ve had nine lives, possibly even more, though not one of them has truly ended. So, let me tell you a story that happened a long time ago, although I remember it as if it were today; therefore, I'm telling it in the present tense so you experience it as if it's happening at the moment. When you come down to it, what's time, anyway! Noche's Story: The Tale of the Midnight Veil Tonight, the moon sits swollen and pale above the crooked rooftops of our street. Its light stains the fog like milk on ink. An hour or two ago, as Joy slept, I escaped through the porch door that wasn't quite locked by the pool-man. And I made it into the graveyard. So now, I prowl along the stone wall that borders the graveyard, my tail flicking in rhythm with the pulse of something I feel beneath the earth. It’s coming awake again, that thing, which sleeps between the tombs. Humans never notice. They think their candles and prayers keep the dark at bay. They don’t realize how thin the veil is. But I do. I see the ripples. I hear the whispers. The air here smells of wet soil, a strange perfume that never belongs to the living. My ears move; there’s a hush in the wind, a gathering pause. Then, from the center of the graveyard, a sigh rises. It's the voice without breath. "Noche..." Ah, so she remembers me. The lady I served centuries ago, when she still wore skin and laughter. She fed me cream by the fire and whispered incantations in my fur. When her heart stopped, she promised to return...and she always keeps her promises. I slink through the rusted gate, its hinges shrieking like the ghosts here, startled awake. The fog thickens, curling around my paws as if it knows my name, too. Shadows stretch long and I see her. She's half-formed, glimmering like silver through the mist. “Still guarding the threshold, little one?” Her voice sounds like falling leaves. “Someone must,” I reply, though she hears my thoughts, not my voice. Then I circle her, holding my tail high. Her smile is a memory of warmth. “The veil weakens. They will come through soon.” “They already have,” I say. “Three nights ago, I chased a shadow through the backyard. It had too many eyes.” “You’ve always been my good hunter.” She tilts her head. The wind picks up. A clock strikes midnight somewhere beyond the trees, and the veil shudders. The cracks are forming now, thin fractures of light and darkness. The seam between worlds tear like old silk. Shapes begin to crawl out. They are shadows with the memory of limbs. They are whispers clothed in hunger. They sense her, and they sense me. I arch my back and hiss. The fur along my spine crackles with static. The Lady raises her hand, “Guard it,” she commands. “Until dawn.” Then she leaves, her glow sinking into the ground like moonlight into water. I leap to the highest gravestone, my eyes burning in gold. The creatures swarm below, dripping through cracks in the night. Their voices sound like rain on glass. I slash at the nearest one, and it recoils, hissing. Then it folds in on itself. They fear me, as they should. By the time the first bird sings, the veil has sealed again. The air still hums, but the danger has passed. I sit upon the stone, licking my paw clean, though the darkness clings to me like smoke. Soon, the humans will wake and see me perched among their dead, and they’ll whisper about bad luck and curses. Let them. They will never know how many times the world almost ended. They’ll never know it was a black cat named Noche who stood between them and the dark. And now, I'll head back to Joy, who always loved me, who never forgot me...even after I died for the last time. |
| Prompt: “Most misunderstandings in the world could be avoided if people would simply take the time to ask, "What else could this mean?” ― Shannon L. Alder Do you agree or disagree? ---------- I agree. Definitely. Most fights happen because we human beings with short fuses jump to immediate conclusions. This quote, "Most misunderstandings in the world could be avoided if people would simply take the time to ask, 'What else could this mean?'" shows that meaning can be constructed in any way it is heard. Even if the original meaning might be negative, we need to respond to the actual words, and not our, often flawed, interpretation of them. How we process information, any information, and interpret others' actions--as if they mean the worst--is not good for human relationships. My guess is that this also goes for the interactions and dealings among nations. I bet most of the wars and negative behavior in the past or here in the present are the results of either misunderstandings or reading into the words of the other group or persons. Our first understanding of what we see as the other side, be it through words or actions, may not be the correct or may not be the only interpretation. For example, a couple of days ago, I was complaining about the yo-yo weather we were having lately and the other person thought I was talking about the present-day governing party of the USA. That was so funny, because I never talk about politics. To me politics should stay as 'to each his own.' Also, because parties and governments change but the altercations and negative feelings among people tend to stay much longer. This, however, is only a slight example of a misunderstood meaning. Worse yet, another person may interpret a neutral comment as an insult because he or she has been hurt by a similar comment before, and they attach a malicious intent behind an innocent sentence or gesture. The simple act of asking, therefore, "What else could this mean?" has to be taken as an invitation to pause and think twice. This way, we decide to step outside of our instinctive reactions and judgmental natures, as well as searching outside of what we may think is the obvious. Another thing, this quotes points to the importance of using intellectual humility. By that, I mean accepting the fact that we don't always have all the answers, and that our first understanding or reaction may never be the ultimate truth. Stopping and thinking better about someone's words or even actions could be the better way of keeping good relationships. As the result, therefore, we are less likely to fall into the trap of rigid thinking and prejudice, and causing an existing conflict to grow bigger. |
| Prompt: Edgar Allan Poe's goal was to be a writer of poetry and short stories. Do you agree with his goal? ---------- It is his goal, isn't it! Whether I agree with it or not, it won't matter. Poe wrote only one novel, which must have freaked him out, so he might have opted to stick with shorter work. No offense, NaNo writers of this year, but I can certainly understand that, because I, too, was writing Nano novels at one time, up to a few years ago. Then, as I got far ahead in years, I tried sticking to short stories and poems. Now that I'm quite old and my eyes can't take too much strain, I'm into writing in my blog. So far so good, though, as I haven't missed a day...yet. Then, unlike that of yours truly, Poe's work is extremely dramatic; "Quote the raven nevermore" and such. I always thought it was because of his emotional makeup. Surely, there is that, but there's also another factor, as I found out later. Poe’s father and mother were professional actors. Should any one of us in WdC had been raised by actors in a repertory company, I bet we'd end up writing more dramatically, too. Poe wasn't only a writer of short stories and poetry, but also, a great literary critic of his time. We may not be great literary critics but we do write reviews here, don't we! I suspect what connects us writers here in WdC to Poe is that Poe started to write poems first, sometime during his early youth. I bet most of us did that. I did that. My first poem, when I was seven was about the flower violet.  I bet Poe wouldn't approve. There was nothing dramatic about it. |
| Prompt: Fog. Since it is Halloween Month, write something about fog. --------- Fog is usually referred to as a weather pattern. Today, though, I plan not to talk about that fog, the one pointing to a weather event. Instead, I'll try to look at it as a sigh. The sigh of a lifetime. And my sigh is sometimes one of sadness, sometimes one of relief. Such a fog is not born of clouds but of the intangible spaces between my thoughts and reality. This fog doesn't fall but it unfurls. When I step into this fog, I step out of myself. This, I came to look at and learn as inevitable in old age. It is like the solid ground under my feet is just a suggestion or a memory, but not a certainty. On the plus side, this fog makes sharp edges soften and blur into a haze of possibility. What is familiar, I question a lot, nowadays. This fog is now a veil, but not of ignorance or not paying attention. It is one of transition. It is where what is ordinary sheds its skin for a more in-depth feeling. The extraordinary, therefore, is there to be seen and appreciated and even loved. For a lost artist or writer, it is a sanctuary, as well as a playground for what was unseen, for the fog now cloaks the mundane. Within this fog, time warps. Minutes become eternities. My Lifetime passes in a blink. When this fog rolls in, my memories swim to surface, not as clear remembrances but impressions carrying hues of what might have been and what never will be. Then, my intuition enters the stage with a sudden knowing, which bypasses logic and addresses my soul. To be lost in such a fog is not a misfortune. Instead, it is an invitation to look beyond the known. It is that gentle reminder to me that truth is not often what I can see, but it's what I can feel, when I let myself enter into the secretive breath of this fog. |
| Prompt: Halloween Can you remember your earliest memory of the Halloween season? If not, write about what can make a Halloween trick or treating memorable? Or do you wish other nations could also enjoy Halloween and the month of October? ---------- It's been such a long time and I don't believe I recall anything about an earliest memory. According to my mother though, I must have asked if the Thanksgiving Turkey had become a ghost. Go figure a kid's mind! To me, what made trick-or-treating memorable was the trick or treaters ringing our door, much later, and my older son refusing to go trick or treating because it was embarrassing for him to beg for candy. Yet, the younger one couldn't wait for it and would be jumping up and down with excitement. To this day, my two sons are each other's opposites in just about everything. I am not sure what I wish for other nations in regard to Halloween, but I wish they would stop their fighting and their wars before establishing a Halloween or any other holiday. Still, some do celebrate Halloween, but by wearing different masks. I heard, in some places, it is a candlelight vigil and in another, a masked carnival. In other words, our Halloween friend the pumpkin is replaced by a turnip in Germany, a sugar skull in Mexico, a paper lantern in Japan, and a glowing LED mask in Nairobi. Their common thread is a fearful night when ordinary rules loosen, when the lines between the living and the imagined blur. This is when the small villages in the Irish countryside or megacities in Tokyo come together to confront the darkness with a smile, a snack, and a story. After all, what's more fun than treating a dark night with a good story! |
| Prompt: pets Write about the best things about being a cat (or any other pet) owner and what your animal friends have taught you. -------- Before I talk about the best things, let me talk about the worst thing, possibly the only worst thing. They die. As did my last cat. As did all the other dogs and cats I got so attached to throughout my life. And that broke me in so very many ways. Now that I've gotten the worst out of the way, let me talk about the "How do I love thee"s when it comes to an animal family member. For me, being a cat companion, especially of my last cat Noche, meant being immersed into her world of mysterious elegance, her gentle friendship, and her surprisingly profound lessons. She definitely had a certain magic about her. So what were those lessons and joy handed to me by my whiskered wonder? To begin with, her affection was unconditional. It was a privilege given only to me, I felt. It meant living with her head nuzzles, unrestrained joyful leaps, her purrs against my legs, her nosiness into anything I was doing such as making the bed, her long stares at me with slow blinks in between, and her talking in her sleep while she lay in bed with me at nights. Noche wasn't a lap cat, but she always found the closest spot to me and I always provided one for her. At times, she liked to be picked up and loved, and her purrs were my constant grounding, a simple happiness of the moment, but she preferred to be put in her seat afterwards. Plus, she knew the comfiest chair or seat or the top of something to snooze in or to watch the goings on in the house. For an old cat, Noche was truly acrobatic, too. She provided me with unforeseen entertainment very often, as well as lessons on how to live. Her sudden bursts of energy, dramatic pounces, her peculiar fascination with the TV reminded me not to take anything too seriously. She also knew almost instinctively my sorrows and joys, and offered me her healing presence or playfulness. Having Noche with me meant a journey filled with soft paws, mesmerizing stares, a soothing, quiet symphony of purrs, and our moments of special connection. She wove her magic into my life, giving it another very important meaning. A meaning that still stays with me after she's gone. |
| Prompt: Ghosts and the paranormal provide a bottomless source of inspiration for writers. Why do you think that is? ------------ Why are writers so taken with the paranormal? I believe it is because the ghost story and the paranormal in its varied forms stay around the longest in our culture. What is paranormal also lies between the known and the unknowable. What it is not, is not the cheap thrill of a sudden scare. This, I mistakenly had thought much earlier and I looked down at all "boo" producers; however, after reading the many works of WdC writers on the subject, I'm reformed now. In essence, when I think about it, a writer's main task is to explore emotion, trauma, and consequences. Truly, ghosts are consequences, when it comes down to it. They are the residue of injustice, grief, guilt and love, which refuse to die. Also, this enables a writer to bypass that internal thought, which is often shown in a live character. I don't ever recall a reading about a ghost's internal monologue. Instead, the ghost belongs, usually, with a setting. This setting is mostly a historical place, an old structure. Yet, a haunted house or place preserves time inside it. What we think are random details, like the scent of lilac, the creaky door to the attic, or that cold spot in the library, can be clues left from the past life of a ghost. This allows the writer to look deep into time, possibly the ghost's time, which should reveal itself somewhere in the plot. Still, the most inspiring quality of the paranormal is its use as a tool for psychological suspense. In short, it tests our perception as humans. It makes what we call reality an iffy idea. Then, for the writer who is versatile, (not yours truly), the paranormal is flexible and can be used in several genres. "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir" comes to mind, for example. Then, how about the comedic, "Beetlejuice"? At the end, the true power of the ghost is in its humanity and not in its ability to frighten. And this makes a good writer become interested in only what prevents the ghost or a similar spirit from leaving. This is the ultimate dare of the story writing. This is where the writer's muse always finds its own special voice. |
| Prompt: Eleanor Roosevelt: "At all times, day by day, we have to continue fighting for freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom from want — for these are things that must be gained in peace as well as in war". Do you agree or disagree with Ms. Roosevelt about the value of freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom from want? ------ I surely do. Especially the first two. The third one "freedom from want"--although I can sense her meaning here--I think "want" is an iffy word. Granted, "want" may have had an added meaning in Elenor Roosevelt's time and could be substituted for "need." I say this, because like the silly me, most of us want stuff that we don't really need or maybe only emotionally need. Anyway, most of such "want"s can die in minutes, sometimes. Now that I've substituted "need" for "want," I certainly agree with what she's saying. Also, there are many other values that may be close in importance to these values, but I guess I'll stick to the quote's three values for brevity's sake. Granted that these three values are very important, what makes "freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and freedom from want" especially to fight for as values? Yes, I would fight for them like Eleanor, but I would probably choose tact and peace over war. This is because I would worry that gross and aggressive action could have damaging results not only to people but to the value itself. Then, what if values clash? Come to think of it, most difficult decisions are choices about the relative weight of a value. I mean. how can you choose to fight for one value versus another! Case in point, how can you trade a value like “freedom” with “security”? Not tradeable, isn't it? And I agree, these two aren’t tradeable...mostly. The thing is, what happens when this choice involves your entire family's or town's or nation's security? Then, possibly your fight will have to go underground and you would fight underhandedly while still having some security. Is this also a choice? I really don't know the answer to this. I only hope and pray that none of us and nobody in the world will have to face such difficult choices. The nicest part of the quote, however, is its last section, "for these are things that must be gained in peace as well as in war." I certainly wish we could avoid all wars and fight for our values in peace, without screaming and scraping at one another. |
| Prompt: Write about your neighbors--- are they good neighbors or bad neighbors? ----- My neighbors? I guess they are all very nice people, but I don't really know them. Not like the time during the early nineties when we moved into this house. At the time, we were, maybe, the youngest couple on the street. Then, I got to know most of them. Nowadays, everyone is so much younger, as most of the older ones have passed away, and many moved in with family or went into retirement homes. At this time, I think I am the oldest one around. I know this from the fact that instead of calling repair people for the upkeep of their houses, my neighbors do those jobs themselves. As for me, for such jobs, I have several companies doing the work. As to my immediate neighbors, those to the left of the house just moved in and I haven't met them, although my son says he talked to them. People to my right are a very sweet couple with grown children. They moved in about six years ago. They are friendly and they gave me their cell numbers and asked me to call them if I ever needed anything, and during the holidays they always bring over goodies and stuff. Those across the street, we just wave at each other when outside. Part of the problem of being unneighborly lies with me, though. I don't take a walk on the street as I once used to, unless someone is accompanying me. And really, very few people nowadays take a walk on our street, anyway. Then, for me, even going to my mailbox feels like a trip, which means taking at least 100 steps over the concrete one way. Especially I am wary when it rains because slipping and falling on the wet ground would be not much fun in old age. During the 60s, 70s, and even 80s, when we lived up north, we knew everybody around, but it was then. Times have changed a lot over the years, due to the inventions of many other ways for us to meet and make friends with other people, near and far. Still, I feel good about the people in my neighborhood because we have a nice, quiet street with houses far apart and no one bothers anyone. |
| Prompt: What are your favorite Halloween movies you watch every year? Write about them in your Blog entry today. ------------ Forget about every year. I'm just not into watching Halloween-centered shows or any horror movies. This is because, since the foundation of the horror genre, research into these themes has been quite extensive. Some psychiatrists believe that scaring children (And I add, adults, too) should not be a regular regimen for the general mental health of a nation. But then, who am I to swim against the tide, when Halloween horror has become so popular! Not wanting to evade the issue altogether, better parents usually sugar-coat it by giving it a comedic edge and possibly ban the view of far-out and taboo scenarios and activities on-screen. When I try to reduce a horror film to its basics, be it some regular horror or a Halloween movie, its plot mostly has to do with the relationship between a monster, a ghost, a witch, a vampire, or some other scary entity and a normal person or a group of people. Surely, exciting chases and sudden boos give a jolt to the viewers, but this type of a jolt may not be very healthy for everyone. This weird enjoyment of such a jolt defines the horror film or a Halloween movie at its core by serving as the reason and the basis for the entire plot. Still, during the Halloween time, I go along with the excitement and fill a basket of goodies for the trick or treaters who ring my door. After all, I love children, be it in costumes or otherwise. |
| Prompt: "Sea of destiny" is a metaphor for the overwhelming, unpredictable circumstances of life and one's predetermined life path with the journey through it's challenges leading to a final intended outcome or purpose. Write about this metaphor for your Blog entry today. --------- Such a restless expanse that sea of destiny! It shimmers, too, when the sun hits it at a good angle. Best yet, we're all adrift on it, as I am...on its waters woven from my choices and time and my dreams that gleam, hiding my fears deep under it. Even if my course was unknown, I set sail on it, once, a long time ago, not knowing this sea had a dual nature. I let its waves carry me gently, as if they knew of my longings. But no, soon, the sea tossed me into storms, as it does to most, just to test my mettle and to let me find out if I could float. Float I did, but I got seasick, too. Silly me, trusting this sea and its horizon! Then, a strange serenity took over, close to the end of my journey. From where it arose, I can't tell, but just maybe, now I am seeing the truth. The truth that destiny is not a single line on these waters, but a tide that has moved and keeps moving within me, with my every choice and every surrender. Now, I see this wasn't my taking a trip or going to anywhere, but the sea was teaching me how to move, how to listen to the wind, how to find light in its depths, and how to stay calm on its waves. In a nutshell, this sea of destiny never showed me where to go, but who I could become during the crossing of it. Who did I become? Now, isn't that the million-dollar question! I'm still sailing, and that alone is something, wobbly though my sails are. |
| Prompt: "A witch never gets caught. Don’t forget that she has magic in her fingers and devilry dancing in her blood." Roald Dahl, The Witches Fall is a great time for witches. Do you have a favorite witch in a story or in folklore? ------------------ Well, it must be. I mean fall being "a great time for witches." And right now, WdC is teeming with witches, which points to the fact that my favorite witches do reside in WdC. And for me to love and appreciate them, folklore and stories aren't needed, unless of course, our WdC witches themselves would like to come up with their own fantastic stories. With story writing and magical powers or not, witches represent a tiny piece of the unknown. I seriously believe that witches do not deserve the bad wrap they get. This is because, in our ancient world, although being supernatural, witches were wise women and priestesses. They could be malicious or kind, just like the rest of us. I rather like to think that they evolved from ancient pagan figures like healers and the elders of the tribes, rather than any evil being. Unfortunately, children's stories, such as Hansel and Gretel, Snow White, and Rapunzel show them in a very bad light. As for me, after I grew up and got over the dread of Hansel and Gretel's witch coming after me, my better-liked witches started to show up in the mythology. Like Circe in The Odyssey. Circe knew of plants and their healing powers, which makes me wish she was still around to undo the negative that is being done to us by the big pharma, and at times, by the doctors who are in cahoots with the big pharma. Circe also had a descendant, Medea, her niece who helped Jason, and later took off with him on the Argo. Then, an Italian friend of mine told me about the Italian witch Befana who, before Epiphany, flies around her broom and delivers gifts, a Santa Claus in witch form. The most wonderful thing about Befana is that she is very tidy. She uses her broom not only for flying, but also for tidying up the messy houses she visits. Now, here's a witch, even the old Salem witch-killers would respect. The stereotypical old witch figure with a hooked nose and warts aside, I tend to believe witches to have dual natures. As I said in the beginning of this entry, I think of witches as being just like the rest of us, especially the WdC witch-writers who can come up with great poems, blog posts, and stories, in addition to their many witchy qualities. |
| Prompt: If someone told you that a group of stars are going to appear in a certain pattern, foretelling an ancient curse is about to come true. Would you believe it or would you think of it as nonsense? And would you make up a story about it? ----- Making up a story about it would be such fun, but then making up a story about anything is a lot of fun. As to believing the cock-a-doodle-doo about the star patterns and an ancient curse, it is not my forte. But I can weave a few words around it, can't I! Well, okay, here it goes, just maybe a bit on the dark side, but then, isn't a curse's place on the dark side, anyway? This Cursed Earth Across the night, they speak in patterns of light, coiled like serpents, hunters, swans, and that lion's mane, burning again with hidden lore I close my eyes and whisper, "No more!" a mortal that I am, for a curse has bloomed in Orion's belt and I hear my dead mother weeping, from Virgo's veil, never to be seen again Yet, old gods and rivers mirror the flame beneath the soil and whisper my name, for Leo's lamp is on our humanity's failing, etched in burning runes, for the night is now a tomb for this earth, which scars the heavens with its long-forgotten moon's game, and I am caught in the net of an ancient flame. |
| Prompt: October Is there something about this October and the fall season that makes you feel peaceful or calm? Or is October's energy exciting and stimulating? ---------- There is nothing special about any October anymore, to make me peaceful and calm, since it is the hurricane season where I live. Once upon a time, however, when and where we lived without the threat of hurricanes, October used to be one of my favorite months. Still, I bask in the memory of those days, especially when I remind myself, to "calm the chaos!" In the back of our then-house were the woods. Some days, I would set off into the woods, leaving the breakfast dishes in the sink, after the kids took off for school and my husband went to work. I loved the swirl of the dim light about me as if it were a liquid something. Then, within those thick woods, I loved to listen to the birdsongs through the trees. The ground of rock and grass covered with the falling leaves would be like a sodden rug to walk on, but I loved the crackling noise of it, and I still miss it. To me, that was autumn's song finding a new rhythm, and its peace calmed me. No more! And not just the hurricanes. It is the state of the world, the way things have changed so much, some for the better, most for the worst. Better or worse, it's a toss up, depending on many variables. One of my Catholic friends told me that their church observes October as the month of respect. "Respect the creation! Respect life!" Nice thoughts, but this isn't easy with the Gaza problem, Ukraine, the World, Ai, and our own USA problems, not to mention the personal problems of each one of us. When I told her this, she said, "But, you should..." Should? That should is a bully of a word. This is because not only we use it against others, but also against ourselves. "I should be more on top of things, be thinner, more stylish, more productive, more social, write more, laugh more, read more … " Hello should, and Welcome our numerous mental health struggles! So for me, October is neither peaceful, nor exciting and stimulating. Surely, in it, I'll have calmer days and exciting ones, too, but the most truthful thing I can say about this month is that October only heightens my nostalgia. |
| Prompt: Reading "Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it's a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up, and it's a way of making contact with someone else's imagination after a day that's all too real" - Nora Ephron. Your thoughts? --------------- Me and reading? You hit the nail on the head. I learned to read well enough before I was four years of age and I've never let go of books ever since, this causing sometimes the despair of other people in my life. Well, too bad! I could do nothing about their baseless despair, but take another book-reading cruise. Suppose, you're taking a cruise, yourself. Surely, the ship or the vessel you're boarding is essential but would you ever mistake the vessel for the journey, or maybe, consider the journey as only a temporary retreat? If you did, wouldn't you be shortchanging yourself? Similarly, the ship is the reading, and at its most basic level, reading is a form of low-cost, high-yield escapism. Its mechanics could be the physical parts of a book, its weight, ink, fonts, etc. But, what about the journey? In this journey, you and I leave behind our own worries and anxieties, for the information, and if fiction, for the characters' and the story's borrowed joys and anxieties. This form of escape is necessary as a mental and spiritual cleansing. When we trade our immediate lives inside our familiar living rooms with the exciting cop-burglar chase on the gas-lit streets of Victorian London or the imagined other beings in other forms that attack the space station, we are letting ourselves have the freedom from the tyranny of our present lives. Speaking for myself, while I read, I am deeply engrossed in the book or its plot and characters. So much so that I stop worrying about the mail or the check I've forgotten to send, the part of the house I've neglected to clean, or what to do if one of my sons has a problem that he may be hiding from me. Still, the best part of reading, in fact, is that its true magic isn't in its letting us flee reality, but in the transformation it causes in us. When we return to real life from a book, we are not unchanged. What we thought was a temporary escape has caused a permanent change in us. Let me try to look at those ways of change. First comes the feeling of empathy. When we are reading anything from anyone else's viewpoint, we are borrowing their consciousness. We are borrowing, in a story or in a memoir, the mindset of a slave being beaten or the personal pain of a refugee who carries the loss of his home in his backpack. In this way, reading is an exercise in perspective-taking, and it expands the bounds of the self. And empathy is not an escape but a vital tool for facing life's realities with understanding. Reading also gives us an intellectual edge. Be it fiction, non-fiction, history, science, philosophy, etc., it helps us gain context, vocabulary, and framework for all our thoughts. A good book gives us not only relief, but also an edge and information about the state of the world and its economy, political unrest, or spiritual agony. It offers language for articulation and understanding. In other words, it provides us with the most necessary tools to manage our confusion about the understanding of any situation. As we read, we are not just spending hours or being lost in the complex morality of, say, Fyodor Dostoevsky or the economic theories of John Maynard Keynes. Such books are building for us an internal home, an internal architecture, with layered understanding. Such a construction or structure makes any future reality or disaster less overwhelming and painful. The escape, therefore, is only the first step. The deeper effect of reading is the transformation that enables us to emerge from a book not just rested, but also, entirely reformed and remade. |
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