little sarah Big World

Tag: writing

But Also…

…also going home was a trip (in the other sense), wherein I never fully acclimated to the time change and stayed up til three am eating whatever I wanted and writing insomnia’s best ideas. Yet somehow, I felt healthy and whole.

Mac & Cheese Burrito

 

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Reflection

~OR~

What’s Different Here?

On a Bike Ride

I find myself in a writing state of mind more and more lately, but they are brief flashes, fleeting as a summer rain shower, and always at the most inopportune times–always when I’m without paper or pen. Out for a run, in the tub, on the train, with thoughts swimming and ideas taking shape. But just as readily they float away, though I beg my inspiration to stay and let me do it justice. Notions that start in a personal email and later get fleshed out on the blog, or an urge to journal that gets channeled into letters, then sent out to one of my pen-pals or friends.

And then there’s the sudden return of my inclination towards poetry, an impulse I’d thought had died out in my teens, but apparently was only lying dormant. I can feel something inside of me opening up, and with it the lines are beginning to blur. I’m not sure yet, but I think (I think) that I like it. Rainy days, muggy and muddled thoughts gave way to clear brightness, and a sharp-defined vision, which nevertheless remains just out of reach.

River Flowers

*       *       *

I dislike the feeling of repeating myself, relearning the same lessons and reliving the same mistakes. But I’ve looked at my life, as it presently stands, and seen long commutes, foreign customs and cultures, an inconsolable distance between me and my tribe. Me, in the back of the classroom, “the assistant,” writing in my journal and biding my time.

And I think, “Haven’t we been here, and done this?”

Red Bridge

So I ask myself, what’s new? What distinguishes this chapter? Why did you come here and what are you going to do about it?

And the answer is, this time, I am savoring the silence. I am okay with not knowing what will happen, for now. The answer is patience (through counseling) and presence, a meditative step towards grace, away from fear.

Steps

The answer is: writing, learning discipline, meeting goals. Rising early, staying focused, and seeking inspiration (instead of wasting time browsing lifestyle blogs, which I still do way too often, if we’re honest). In this area, I’ve still a ways to go.

Way to Go

The answer is: creativity, and space. An open time-frame and mindset that allows for pretty postcards and dance-party running warm-ups, instead of just dinner and dishes and deadlines.

*       *       *

When I picture what’s new in this season of my life, I see myself at home, working at my desk, taking breaks to run or snack or meditate. I see myself reading on the train, when I’m able, and being okay with just being, when I’m not. I see simple meals, good books, hot tea and health. I see studying, sitting, contemplation and growth.

Chaddo Reflections

This, the 27th year of my life, is a sweet vanilla silence, a blue-green color, a reflecting pond.

Alien Bridge

*       *       *

But also, it is sunshine, and warmth and cheer. It’s a pioneering spirit, a can-do attitude. In this, the land of the rising sun, I have learned to rise each day with purpose; and like the land, to be solid, yet ever-growing; like the water–clear, deep, and still.

Blue On Blue

Re-Frame

~OR~

What I See / What I Say

Sunday in the Park, Hanamigawa

I say too much, and it’s not all that great.

Like saying, “more to come,” promising to catch up, write more regularly. Then I don’t. The last few months have been a string of good intentions that amount to…

Bright Things, Green Things

I’ve thought about not even addressing it, not wanting to reveal my true colors to potential new readers. Publicly admitting: I have a tendency to promise updates that grow heavy with a sense of obligation and then never bear fruit.

I will tell you: I have been writing, and studying. Trying to write not more, but better, while at the same time trying to carve out consistency. So pieces and posts come together more slowly, but with intention. With purpose, and meaning.

Words in Pictures

Let’s call it “trimming the fat,” and in the meantime I will satisfy your craving (that one I have, too) for beautiful pictures, simple words, something small. Something nice to hold on to.

Clover Again

Then you’ll know: when I do write, I have something to say. Otherwise, I’ll just show you. I’ll share parks and shrines and fascinating insects. Street signs and wet grass and skyscrapers and snacks.

Joro Gumo "Wood Spider"

For now, as needed, my lips are sealed.

But my lens is wide, wide open.

 

 

 

 

 

What We Write (part 1)

written

Chad and I fell in love through writing. Did you know? We met volunteering, flirted tenaciously, felt parallel panic, talked like we’d known each other forever, and then fell into an easy-yet-awkward (and very much sporadic) penpalmanship.

We would check in via letter, or email (or–let’s be honest–facebook) every six months to a year. Then drift off into our own separate lives.

Except one time that didn’t happen. One time we just kept writing. And writing. And writing, until we’d written a book–228 pages of hopes, fears, and things that you’d never want your parents to read.

Anyways, so that’s what we know, and what we come back to, though we’ve also been known to talk on the phone for hours at a time, or stay up all night diving into the oceans of each others minds. Or–lets be honest–watch a movie and then go to bed at 9pm.

And one time (just once), we played around with our new iPhones, dictating random thoughts to Siri to see what she’d turn them into. And that one time, I asked Chad to talk about “what it would be like if we had a kitty cat.”

Then Siri gave us the following, which I have transcribed into poem format. Because it is truly poetic. Thank you, iPhone. Thank you, Siri. Thank you, Chad.

*       *       *

What Would it Be Like if We Had a Kitty Cat?

What would it be like if we had a kitty cat?

Odelays, and having a KitKat
(that we got to snuggle with)and had the to-take for you

Catwalks, in the looking
Little Kitty Cat(and I’m bad)

and then we were–I’m pretty

Nake-Etiquette
daycare, Oberlin

Good little kitty cat

Mayonaise
(and I don’t get off)

Things I Have Not Been Telling You

On a Windy Day

It’s not just adjusting to a new life, Friends. It is everything all at once. It is a new life, new country, new apartment, new job(s), new marriage and new definition of myself. Who is littlesarah, after all, without her friends? Without her family, or her coffee shop job, or her perfect apartment in the Avenues? Who am I in this Big World?

Better question: how am I coping? (Answer: not perfectly. Not as well as I had thought/hoped).

Historically, I have not dealt particularly well with Changes.Yet, as my mom so astutely pointed out, “I don’t know anyone who places themselves at the epicenter of change more than you.” (And I did appreciate that little earthquake reference).

So. What I’m trying to say is there are many reasons I’ve been distant, silent, cryptic, etc. But I’m back, and I want to let you know why I was gone and what’s been going on.

Read the rest of this entry »

Right Here, Right Now

~OR~

Early Morning, Hungover, Anxious, Can’t Sleep

~OR~

I Made Something for You

in Palm Springs

in Palm Springs

So I will go on writing poems
Even if you don’t
Hoping one day
You will find the little collection
I have made for you

And smile.

I will go on writing poems
Even if you don’t
Because I don’t really care
If you write poems

I just love to read you.

I will go on writing poems
(Even if you don’t)
For the same reason
I go for runs
or long walks
The same reason
I write letters
and blogs
The same reason
I play music
or laugh
or dance
or sing

For the same reason I get up in the morning:

I love you.

 

Keeping My Promises

Found my list of Summer Goals, from way back in May, when I had high hopes and thought, as we always do, that I’d make more time somehow.

Six things:

-read more, less TV

-get a land line, no more cell phone

-become a better photographer

-learn to sew

-start new blogs (and then I list them, which I won’t do here)

-go for more walks

Read the rest of this entry »

I used to write all sorts of things–poetry, prose, vignettes, fiction. Nowadays I mostly do this, plus a letter here and there, and then my journal. When I’m feeling good to myself, or when I’m feeling alone.

I used to write things that rhymed, that followed a form.

I used to read these things out loud, in front of people, to dare to expose myself. I used to say openly that I wanted to be a writer.

Was it naivete? Or just one of the many pieces of myself that I let fall by the wayside?

Lately, I’ve been picking up the pieces. Saturday night, in my delirium, I wrote something that rhymes.

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As I Please

~OR~

How to Go For a Natural High (High! High! High!)

Wednesday I walked to work, rising early and moving fast to get the blood flowing. Made it on time, too, and what a beautiful morning.

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Good Morning

~OR~

But Now Am Found

Last night I stayed up ’til nearly 2 am, writing. On paper. Laptop off, typewriter put away, just pen and ink on the page.

For 5 1/2 pages. Read the rest of this entry »