My clothes that I so loved no longer fit me anymore

My wise and protective astral travelling guides 

Told me not to be overly sad and hide

They said take a look around you and see

How exquisitely beautiful this life will be

There was this energy that felt incredibly pure and light

All-encompassing and shining brilliantly bright

They said what you are feeling is your unique soul

And as life moves along, at times, it will take its toll

Your heart is a never ending eternal flame

That carries super powers to withstand any defame

You will be a truth bomb walking your talk

Scanning the landscape with the eyes of a hawk

Your essence has a cadence so individually rare

That sometimes people will simply stop and stare

Your greatest strength is your inherent knowing

That spirit will always leave a sign to keep on going

Paula S.

I was born from the turquoise waters

lapping at my newborn skin

the first familiar experience

preparing me for this universe

I have the entire galaxy

running through my blood

producing constellations upon my skin

my bones made up of moonstone

and my muscles from luxurious silk

at times I feel unworthy of these delectable parts

that come together to form my temple

my heart is formed from all of my experiences

laughter, kindness, travel, love, friendship

but also

trauma, loss, grief, anger, betrayal

part of the intricate mix

I am held together by the flowing words

strung together 

composing my unique DNA

they weave in and out of my lungs

waiting to escape

and create light beams

a beacon for when you’re lost

my spirit gained strength

from the smoke and ash

of all the fires I’ve started

and the ones I’ve emerged from

smouldering and convicted

edgy and oddly comforting

the smell that lingers 

long after the show

unforgettable 

suffocating

unapologetic 

I have the cells of my ancestors

cheering and encouraging me

the aurora borealis shimmers in my irises

mesmerizing

dancing, dazzling

shining bright

shedding light

a one of a kind original 

blink 

and I’ll be gone

This can be in any form including a story, poem, visual art, or even items in a bag. The more creative the better! 

When you think about yourself, what are the things/ingredients that are a part of your makeup? Are there rose petals? Dragon scales? Rosemary oil? Ocean waves? 

I can't wait to learn more about you with this piece!

Your conversation between Joe and Kim has me wanting to know the before as much as the after. 

What happened!?

What is next?

Curtains open to a scene from a narrow, cobblestone street depicting a European city of unknown location. Kim sits at an outdoor patio with her eyes transfixed on something or nothing at all off in the distance. She brings her steaming cup to her mouth and slowly and peacefully takes a sip and a smile creeps across her lips. 

Kim toys with the coiled notebook on the table in front of her. The breeze gently blows her hair into her face and as she is sweeping it out of her face, a man sits down in the chair across from her.

“So, did you get your next inspiration yet?” asks Joe with curiosity.

“I just didn’t know that this would all happen so soon. And now that it’s here, I don’t feel like I’m ready for any of it” sighed Kim as she exhaled harshly.

“Well, all we can do is look forward and fondly remember what once was as often as we can” said Joe as he reaches across the table to caress her arm. 

“There will be lots of time to find my muse. Let’s be on our way while the sun is still shining” Kim speaks as she raises herself from the patio chair and collects her supplies. 

They walk closely beside each other as they stroll down the street, often throwing their heads back in laughter. As they approach the street corner, Kim reaches out and gently leans her head on his shoulder and Joe caresses her hair off of her face. 

Curtains close

The stage is dark with only spotlight on Jenna whose face is dirt smudged and bruised and bloody -  dressed in torn jeans and tattered tshirt standing over a large woven basket holding the basket lid in her hand. Hissing can be heard in the background.

Narrator:

"And so we have come to the end of this tale of becoming - 

to witness the ending of an era that begins with a closing."

Jenna leans over the basket and peers into it. She gingerly pulls a flute from her back pocket and tosses it into the basket - the hissing becomes louder and more pronounced. Jenna swiftly sets the lid on top of the open basket - with a determined thud. She lets out a sigh of relief and begins to secure the lid with frayed twine ends that were once the basket handles. 

Narrator:

" And so she placed the lid on the woven basket

having spent many years captivated by the dance

of taming the devils amongst the snakes.

From ballroom dancing to feverish tango's

Both victories and losses piercing her skin with their fangs

writhing in rhythm to the screaming crescendos...

We are bearing witness to the crossroads where

she finally gives the devil his due,

She secures the lid even tighter with the severed

ties that bind,

Paying no mind, for the first time in a long time,

to the hissing down below. "

Scene end. Curtains Close.

You are an Actor in a play or a movie or a skit of sorts.

Format: Poem format for the final take. You may have to write the story first to be able to transform it into a poem.  There is no right or wrong way to do this, it just is. Creativity at its finest.

A few questions to ponder:

1. What character are you playing? Are you the main character or playing a supporting role?

2. Are you comfortable with being the main character or support person in your story?

3. How many characters, besides yourself does your story require, if any?

3. What do you want your message to be to your audience? (is there a conflict and/or lesson)

4. Is your story a comedy, mystery, autobiography, thriller, science fiction, action, drama,  romance, adventure?

5. What are you feeling as you start to have ideas? (Joy, sadness, excitement, pensive, quiet, etc)

6. Is there a transformation of some sort happening throughout your piece? 

Have fun with this and keep breathing and laughing all week. Sit out in the sunshine when you have the opportunity to do so and soak in the energy and place your hand on your heart!

Connect into yourself and most of all keep going. Trust, believe, love...

Ignorance is Bliss

Right off the hop, I wonder if this is where it all went awry. The unknown is like that monster under the bed that grabs at your dangling feet in the dark. The threat of what could be there – if your imagination is left to fill in the void is usually but not always far worse than what is. And so, my days and nights since childhood became a quest where I rebuke the old saying as it goes – and I fill my boots with as many rabbit holes, observations and experiments in human behavior as possible. I can say for certain that I am in no way blissful, which suggests that my mission is going well or extremely horrific – the view depends on where you stand.

Better Safe Than Sorry

One of the grandest ironies in life is that we love stability and crave freedom. We want wild abandon and blood pumping adventures from the comfort of our safety nets. I am guilty of buying my ticket to the circus where I spend most of my days taming self made monkey’s instead of swinging with gusto between the trapeze of what is and what could be. The peanut gallery tossing their namesakes to the elephant under the big top while the sounds of cracking and breaking shells littering my safety net, remind me that I am aching with a hunger for a grand open air leap into a freefall. I am destined to be wildly unapologetic towards the apologies that keep me safe but not better and dare I say - so are you.

Useless As Tits On A Boar (Bore)

Are you a well-mannered, well behaved woman? Then you may want to cruise on past this one. Yes, I know that technically a “Boar” is a male wild pig, however from a young age every single time I heard this – it conjured up the image of rebellion. A woman that heeds the warning hidden within the homophone of this vulgar metaphor unlocks life’s greatest treasures. Wildness. It is better to be absolutely unhinged that bor-ing. Think about it – so many sayings in this world are all about women that scare you a little, make you think twice – are the unexpected chocolate chip in a sea of shriveled up raisins. The feminine is a creative life force that births and feeds this world with her milk and honey. Women, let the perk and girth of your tits not be wasted. Seek out ways and dance in the sheer delight of being the most useful question mark in the room.

Stir The Pot And Lick The Spoon

They say “hellraiser” like it is a bad thing and I say own it like it is your birthright. If you are paying attention – you may have noticed that many metaphors used to describe emotional outbursts or rage reference the kitchen, cooking and all too often are directed at women, particularly the unruly ones.  If I had my druthers – I would shape and mold every young girls feet with combat boots, lace those them up and sharpen their spoons into swords with the wisdom of the women that came before them.

Here is to living a life with such wild abandon - that the future generations of women roar with the knowing that one day - they too will flip the table of a tired old cliche into a cataclysmic eruption of the status quo.