Counting syllables

I wrote three haiku this morning, the most I’ve ever written in a day (I’m still surprised myself). They all came out of my journey to NYC today.

I was hesitant to leave the house without my camera out of fear that I’d be missing out on the opportunity to take some cool pics, but something inside me didn’t want to.

my inner writer
doesn’t want to take pictures
she just wants to write

Because I was running late, I was half-expecting (or more so convinced) that I wouldn’t make it to the bus terminal in time. I thought I had two more stops to go.

it’s one stop away
that alone gave me some hope
as long as I ran

I made it (with literally a minute to spare, no lie) and settled in. An hour into the trip, I began writing and came across a blog post that got me thinking.

I tend to latch on
to things I do not want
out of fear of loss

Interestingly enough, I came across this and the morning went full circle.

@davidshrigley

Making the road

It’s funny how something so simple (if lined up just right) can strike a chord and speak volumes. This album title, for instance:

In times of not knowing where my life is headed, I must keep moving. Trial and error, tasting and seeing, are all forms of movement. Keep going. Keep trying. You “make the road by walking.”

For your enjoyment: “The Traitor” by Menahan Street Band

Paint your veggies and eat them too

This morning I decided to head out to the Somerville Winter Farmers Market to partake in Urban Sketchers Boston, a group that gathers weekly to sketch. I’ve been once before but wanted to get back into it again.

I felt a bit of anxiety as I arrived due to the amount of people that were there, but the sound of live jazz coming from the café helped ease me.

Once in the market’s main area, I walked around to take it all in: fresh vegetables, hanging plants, pastries. My anxiety still lingered, so I went to the market’s second floor to see what else I could get my eyes on.

I eventually found a stand lined with books on sale from the local public library. And there, looking right at me, was a copy of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 (I had been in search of it up to that point, since I want to use a passage for an upcoming blog post).

Astounded, I picked up Fahrenheit and asked the sellers if I could take a picture of the quote I was looking for. But before I began leafing through the pages, it occurred to me to ask how much the book was going for. The price could not have been better: one dollar, along with everything else.

With that in mind, I jumped to see what else they had to offer. I came across Haiku in English edited by Jim Kacian, Love Poems by Pablo Neruda, and D.I.Y.: Design it Yourself (Design Handbooks) edited by Ellen Lupton.

These were only three out of the nine that I bought. The other titles include:

  • Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
  • A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
  • Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe
  • The Rolling Stone Interviews edited by Jann S. Wenner
  • The Neighborhood Project: Using Evolution to Improve my City, One Block at a Time by David Sloan Wilson

I was in heaven. Each of these books touched topics that have recently had personal significance. I can’t shy away from saying that it felt as though it was meant to be.

Content with my purchase and with my hands full, I went downstairs to finally see what I was going to draw. I landed on a vegetable stand at the very entrance of the farmers market, trying not to be in people’s way.

I started off drawing the stand, but decided to watercolor a watermelon radish at the very end.

The radish was striking. I drew and painted the radish on-site, but later added the text, which was an idea I took from fellow artist Kate.

Artist: @mightydays

I was really impressed with her work. The shadowing within the box and detail of the leaning squash at the top stand out, with the hidden letters adding another layer of interest.

The good with the bad

I can’t seem to get enough of Andrew Bird’s “Pulaski at Night.” It’s been on repeat these last three days, but what holds my attention is this song lyric:

It puts into words what I think life is trying to communicate to me: Whether the cup is half empty or half full, drink still runs over.

Water still flows. Good still exists.

I'm sorry, but you've thrown off the emperor's groove…

It’s 2:30 a.m., and I’ve literally been drafting this post for the last three and a half hours. I’ve held on for this long to ensure that I at least post something.

Despite having a running list of things to share, fear has been getting the best of me. It’s been like this since the beginning of December, which is worrisome. I’m working on dismantling it.

Midnight snack, cartoon captions

Last week, instead of waking up to make a black out poem out of articles in the New Yorker, I landed on a cartoon.

A New Yorker cartoon in the December 9th issue

The original caption read: “But I’m conducting an experiment: will the twentieth cookie taste as good as the first?

It wasn’t all that great, so I opted to come up with my own:

a. “Would you mind saving some for the kids?
b. “Really, John?…and you didn’t invite me?
c. “Those were for the funeral.

Each one got progressively better. The last one cracked me up.