dreams are juxtaposed in rapid interchanging scenes.
beauty i can’t see an intrigue, and patently absurd
the wild as i scream my lungs out till i’m fully awake
backstory: Some people dance their nightmares, I write mine. That’s the only gift, albeit in an ugly wrapping, I get from this experience. What do you do with your nightmares?
p.s. I’m also linking to Poets and Storytellers United.
Beauty lies not in the barren landscape with trees reaching for each other in the dark and against the whistling wind. Beauty is in wrapping the year and tossing out things I forgot on purpose. I find beauty from shadowy parts of November as the earth goes quiet. A glow from within lights up my world.
p.s. Also linking to Poets and Storytellers United.
November finds me prepared with pencils.
backstory: You might have seen the image above, I’m reposting it, nonetheless. Because November is a time I reach for storage boxes of my old artwork and hobbies to nourish my soul. Revisiting creative hobbies I do only for my eyes is the beauty of the November month; a space for me for to fly or fail with no pressure.
p.s. The illustration is from Enchanted Forest, an adult colouring book by Johanna Basford. I’m also responding to a prompt at Poets and Storytellers United.