As per last year, I’ll be writing a poem a day in April, doing NaPoWriMo. Then I hope to keep writing poetry for the rest of my life.
When I’ve gathered myself together and worked up the courage, greased the wheels of long-ago J-School lessons and made peace with the memories of several lifetimes, I shall start to write again, here:
Teacup because I’m hypersensitive and breakable; abroad, because I’ve fought my worst fears to have my adventures and experiences. I doubt that that will change until I well and truly give up and, well, die. Essentially.
I never want to be static. I always want to be willing and happy to learn. I want to be solid and stoic and calm, but I also know that there are deep parts of my personality that don’t want to be. They want to be curious, spontaneous and inquisitive, childlike and a constant beginner; to dance in the lights as much as hover in the wings.
But there’s one thing the whole choir of voices in my head agree on, and it’s this: we want to write. So we shall. Eventually.
What I learnt in 2014:
Congratulations on what you have all built and survived in 2014, happy new year, and may 2015 be all you hope it will be.
… and an easy laugh.
The non-blogging can be explained, I swear. I have spent the last two days paying with my sanity and composure for being in denial in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
Toys R Us is NOT a place for timid souls in the week leading up to Christmas, as I discovered recently– too recently for me to have forgotten the high-pitch cacophony of, “this Daddy! Mommy! I want this I want this I want THIIIIIIS!!!”.
But I have a reasonable sense of humour, so I managed to float through the place in a kind of slightly bewildered haze with a beatific smile frozen on my face. The bewilderment came from the sheer number of choices… But! I really must express my profound dissatisfaction with all this cotton-woolly over-cautiousness. Where are all the chemistry sets of old, with real chemicals and things that can go bang if you mixed it up right? Or the little paper-wrapped pellets filled with sand and gunpowder that went SNAP! when you threw them on the ground?
Everything is so tame these days.
I also managed to elbow my way through each aisle, then keep my spirits up in the Very Long Queue To Freedom Beyond the Cashiers, because I am easily amused. I have never before seen a bunch of parents so frazzled and wild-eyed.
I should say that I’m grateful I didn’t have my own screaming brat to deal with, but I was a lot more grateful that I could witness this pre-Christmas phenomenon from the outside with an easily-tickled sense of humour.
Up until recently, I didn’t really know how to play with small humans. They’re quite a mystery to me, having been quite a serious, thoughtful, worried small human myself, prone to spending hours reading, building a sandcastle complete with moat and dams to protect it against the encroachment of the sea, concentrating on slowly forming very tall drip-sandcastles, or playing Lego in a blanket fort.
So, I did not become the child-friendly variety of adult.
Until recently…. when my aunt set up a pink princess tent for my very small, still-portable goddaughter. The little ankle-biter started putting all her fat-Lego pieces into the fort, so I went and sat inside and started making random things. That’s when the small human crawled inside, emitted a screech and a giggle…. And we ended up sitting there in amicable silence for the longest time– I clipping pieces together to make things, she pulling them apart with a satisfying “click”.
I even ended up having a wonderfully calming and entertaining time. She finally likes me a little more.
Yup, I’m grateful for princess tents and Lego.
[Mind you, if my “biological clock” (pffft, please; I question its existence) ever starts ticking, I won’t just press the snooze button… I’ll throw it out the window onto the pavement downstairs.]
The last time I made a list of things I wanted to study at university or learn at a good school of some kind, this is how it looked (in no particular order and following no particular logic nor, in the case of economics, sense of aptitude whatsoever):
Even then, I felt that a few somethings were missing from the list.
I also want to learn classical European sword-fighting (not just that prissy, skittish rapier fencing in a tailored Darth Vadar suit, real full-on Lord of the Rings go-full-tilt-and-fight-an-Orc type metal-clashing sword-fighting), aikido, archery, Krav…. and be excellent at meditation, too. Oh and shooting! I’ve never held a gun before… I’d rather like to see how good I am on a shooting range, and learn how to reload a magazine of a pistol. Just because.
I love new things; they just fire up my brain like little synapse sparklers. I’m just as happy curled up on a couch for weeks with a stack of books, though.
Ah, thank you dear creator of the universe, if you exist, for bestowing me with terminal, pathological curiosity. (Let’s assume you didn’t accidentally drop the whole bottle on me on the production line). Mind you, it must be guarded against jadedness and depression and what society expects from a “grownup”. I’m grateful for curiosity!
like thalassic velvet
In a world of poems, words steal love and put it on a blackboard
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