The Think System

     Irish dramatist, Brendan Behan once said "I am a drinker with a writing problem." I have to admit, it's one of my favorite quotes. Around our house we look for reasons to celebrate: holidays (especially St. Patrick's Day) birthdays, graduations or because that particular day of the week ends with the letter "y". I enjoy champagne, margaritas, shots of Irish Whiskey, martinis...well, you get the picture. But here's the thing. Drinking and parties are fun, but not every day. If we don't throw a party for a few months (yes, it does happen) I'm still okay. 

     Writing, on the other hand is my addiction.  If I'm not doing it, I'm thinking about it. I think about my next project, how to fix my last project, projects I want to do someday. I look at something like a sunset, a rain puddle, or a popcorn kernel and wonder how I can describe it in a way no one else has. I think about emotions I have, and try to apply some sort of tangible image to it. I look at a park's playground and remember how it felt to fly down a slide. Unfortunately it's sometimes hard to get all those thoughts written down. It's like Professor Harold Hill's "Think System" in the play, The Music Man. If you just think about it all the time, you'll get better or hey, get published!...if only.

     Last year during April, I participated in a poem-a-day challenge, courtesy of Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides website. I'm pretty sure I did all or most of the prompts, but I had a hard time keeping up with posting and writing sometimes. This year I'm determined. I've been actively writing every day and keeping up with posting for the most part.  I keep thinking if I can get myself disciplined to write my work down every day, and not just be rolling it around in my head, I might actually sleep better at night...and maybe, getting better and getting published will be that much closer.

Caren E. Salas

Want to join me? Check it out:  http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/

April is coming...

Well, my plan to get on here and write every day turned out to be a bust.  I have been writing more lately, I just don't always get on the computer and type it up. I suppose I should get into the habit, since next month is National Poetry Month, and I really want to keep up with my poem-a-day challenge this time. Last year I did pretty well until Spring Break. It wasn't entirely my fault. We were on vacation and I didn't really have internet access all the time, so I wasn't able to get the prompts. (I know, excuses excuses.) This year I'm facing it with determination. Not only am I going to keep up, I am going to submit other stuff I'm writing - dang it - if it kills me. At this point, it might (just kidding of course). Well friends, wish me luck. April is only a few days away. Better get my imagination warmed up and ready to work!

Chik-ho-Tep

Today the previously little known, favorite pet chicken of the famous ancient Egyptian Pharaoh "Neva-hrd-Uvom", was ushered into the after-life. Chik-ho-Tep as he was fondly referred to, was carefully preserved and mummified by the pharaoh's faithful, yet somewhat demented young priestess, Jan-A-unKhamun.  Although previous to his journey into death, Neva did consume most of his beloved beaked friend, he did save the chicken's right leg for future preservation. Salted, wrapped, oiled and perfumed, Chik-ho-Tep was tenderly placed into his own miniature sarcophagus. He will be displayed briefly along with the remains of several others of his kind, before being set in his final resting place.  Jan-A-unKhamun's mother expressed relief that the process was over, since the mummification was performed in her kitchen and was beginning to have...an aroma.  Jan-A hopes the High Priestess will be pleased and give her an A.


Social studies projects! Oy!

Tangled

Sometimes I feel like my life is just this tangled mess of things to do, miscellaneous tasks to accomplish, endless bills to pay, and driving destinations that don't take me anywhere.  I want to just take a break from it all and go on a mental vacation. The problem is, that evenually I would have to return to my life and the insanity of it would have increased exponentially with each moment I was away.  Funny how that works, isn't it?  No matter what I do to try and slow things down, it never seems to work. Anything put aside, is only delayed.  Anything delayed, is added to the ever growing heap of doodoo that I can't escape.  So what gets sacrificed? The things that actually do bring me a little peace.  I can't delete things like taking the kids to school, or paying the phone bill, or shopping for groceries.  There never seems to be enough hours in the day to do all these things, much less write, or go for a walk on the beach.  What I can do is dream. I dream up my poems. I dream of a time when I'll have more time.  I keep trying to get things done, and somehow write in between.  It'll happen one day, at least I hope it will.



Photo by William Salas

Feeling better...

Today, the sun was shining. There were a few fluffy clouds in the sky, but for the most part, it was a nice day. I actually got a few things done, made some phone calls I've been putting off, wrote some necessary e-mails. Tomorrow, I may even go back to editing my novel. But let's not get ahead of ourselves.  Today, the sun was shining. I'm good with that.

Gray Skies

There's something about this kind of weather. At any time during the day you look outside and it's just...gray. It removes all sense of time. It's brighter than the night, granted, but there's no morning sunrise, or afternoon shadows.  For me, the time slips right out from under my feet, because I feel like it must still be six or seven a.m.  The next thing I know, it's evening, time to make dinner...and where did the time go?

I remember I used to enjoy this type of weather. It was the kind of day that I could just stay in, make cookies and watch an old movie. Somehow in the midst of adulthood, motherhood and just plain life, I've gone from enjoying the overcast to dreading it.  The lack of actual direct sunlight sends me into a world of melancholy limbo.  I call friends, I write e-mails, Twitter my fingers off. I try and keep busy, doing housework or running errands, but all I want to do is curl up, go to sleep and wake up in the Spring.  Unfortunately, I don't really have that option.  So I must fight the grays.
If only they had "Sky Color" in a box at the nearest drug store.
Someone should invent that. They'd make a fortune.

Meanwhile, I guess I'll go put the clothes in the dryer.

Experiment

Dear Friends, I've decided to try something different with this blog. I want to try and write something everyday. It will probably be very short, more like a single thought or image rather than thoughts on a particular subject.  I'm hoping this will encourage me to actually write everyday. It always seems like other distractions keep me from actually doing that. Sometimes I will write a journal-type entry, other times maybe an idea for a poem or story or just something I see outside the window or while I walk my dog. It may be just a few words or maybe more. That's the plan anyway. So here we go. 
Just a little note, today is my mom's birthday. I need to call her.  :)
She's the best mom in the world.