Little blue bird
why do you sing?
Little blue bird
where do you fly?
Do you fly from tree to tree?
Are you still looking for your home?
Little blue bird
do you fly home?
Little blue bird
is home the reason you sing?
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio or watch a few of my poetry readings.
It should be known that I hate birds. It is partly out of fear and partly is because I think at least fowl and larger birds are evil. I can handle smaller birds and can stand pet birds, like cockatiels. Roosters, swans, and geese are not okay in my book.
I have had a few negative run-ins with birds in my life. The first one I remember is the swan that attacked me and my now step-sister.
Until I was 10 I lived across the street from my uncles’ pig farm. They also had goats and chickens. I would always go over there and one day I went with my step-sister.
We went into the goat’s area. It was a fenced in patch of land that was a bit rocky, but grass still grew.
I did not realize that a swan made a nest and laid eggs in the grass, until I got too close. The swan chased my step-sister and me. We scrambled up some rocks, since we could not get back to the gate. There was a thorny bush on the other side of the fence. There was a short argument about leaping the fence, since we would be jumping into the thorns. The evil swan was ready to attack, but no major injuries occurred. I believe we jumped the fence or one of my uncles came to chase the bird away.
I want to say my uncle chased away the massive bird with a shovel in hand, but I can only remember the terror of the swan’s attack with its flapping wings and the feeling of being trapped.
If you would like to read more short stories please check out my Portfolio or perhaps you would enjoy watching readings of my work on YouTube. You can also read more of Journey To Me, which is the series this is from.
The Vine of Life
grows and splits.
The only thing that is clear
is the vine travels many ways,
flowers will bloom in their own time
and when they do
bees will come;
loving the flowers,
but not too soon.
Off to the side
A Rose does bloom
her bee is not yet seen.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
I will be blunt because there is no real way of talking about my speech journey without doing so. I have a speech impediment, where d’s and t’s don’t always come out right or at all. This is especially true when d’s and t’s are in the middle of a word and I haven’t said that word a lot or at all.
Growing up I hated that it was called an impediment. It wasn’t because of any negative experience I’ve had with having a speech impediment. I hated it because I blurred the syllables together. I couldn’t say what I had well.
After years of speech therapy, theater, and practice, friends and most people have said they don’t notice it. It can now be hidden and I can speak to be understood now.
Still, I can hear it. I may not consciously be aware of it with every word I say, but I know it is still there in the shadows. It especially yells at me when I listen to a recording or when I’m speaking through a microphone.
I repeat the words my friends tell me, “It’s just how I sound. It’s just how I talk.” I remind myself it makes me unique and those who matter don’t fault me for it.
For a time I cringed my way through editing videos of where I am speaking, whether it was monologues, tips, or improv videos. I forced myself to get comfortable with my voice. It did help me become more comfortable with my voice and accept it.
Eventually the videos slowed to a stop. The improved self-esteem for my speech was only a bi-product and my goals that were the real focus of the videos were not in the foreground of my motivation.
I gave little thought to my voice or speech for a while. It was not interfering with my life and it didn’t seem like an issue. I could listen to my voice without cringing now and everyone could understand me. Part of my thought that the impediment was behind me. It was something I had not have. It felt as though the struggle with my impediment was over or a tiny pebble in the shadows of a far corner of my mind.
The funny thing with the mind is if you shine a light on a pebble it can grow. Even the slightest connection to it can create a boulder under the right circumstances. The pebble becomes a hurdle, which opens wounds that should have been healed.
Partly from stress and partly because a light was shined on my speech, I now had to face my speech impediment again. Even though the focus on my speech had nothing to do with the impediment, I saw my insecurities surrounding it.
I now have to figure out why the pain of not speaking exactly like everyone else still remains and threatens to come out at the slightest reference. Why does anything negative relating to speech or talking bring me to tears?
On the surface, it appears that the reasons are easily seen. I want to be viewed as smart, but I must first sound intelligent. If I’m fumbling over words, stuttering, and finding replacements that I can say my IQ appears to drop.
I do not want what I view as my weakness and flaw hold me back. When it does I feel all the times its held me back. I am reminded of going to speech classes, being taken out of regular classes to go to a special speech therapy class, and feeling the label of “different” on me when it was not my choice.
Even now when I gladly wear “unique” and “different” as a proud badge, being different in speech hurts. It transports me back to being a child who did not ask for the label or want it.
I always felt loved and do not remember anyone teasing me about my impediment. They would tease me and bully me for other reasons, but never for how I spoke.
I do not want to blame my short coming or not getting things in life on my speech impediment. Hardly anyone notices now and if they do they say it doesn’t change their view of me. However, when it’s noticed it changes my view of myself. I’m reminded of the shy little girl. I find my shell again and must fight the urge to get back in it. I do fight though and write instead of crawling into my safe shell.
When the time is right I will explore why my speech impediment still hurts so badly when it is in the light. It is part of me and should not hurt me, yet it still does.
For now I will again work on tongue twisters and vocal exercises to overcome my flaws. I will become comfortable with my voice once again. I will remind myself that I’m my own success person. I’m strong and I am loved.
The relationship with my speech is a journey that I may stumble along, but I’m at least making progress and discovering more sides of who I am.
I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.
Here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it
It was made
by the ones who love it
It was made
by the ones who tore it
It is made
by the smiles you give it
It is made
by the tears that heal it
So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it
It’s built by
the walls of protection
It’s built by
the gates of trusting
It’s made by
fear of more rejection
It’s made bu
acts of affection.
So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it
Thank you for reading this song. I hope you enjoyed it.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
On this journey, I must look at where I’ve been and the stories that shaped my life. I believe it is important to look in the rearview mirror every so often to see the path you are on a little clearer. The first story I’m reflecting on while on this journey of self-discovery happened when I was a child. It was when I was left on a school bus.
When I was 5 I would ride the bus to kindergarten. One day the bus driver dropped all the kids off at school but did not check the seats. She left the school and parked the bus in her normal bus parking lot, but was in a rush. She had to take her grandson to the doctors or meet him at the hospital. Again she did not check the seats on the bus.
I stress this point, because little 5 year old me was asleep in one of the seats. At that time I could sleep anywhere and apparently through anything.
I snapped to consciousness in an empty bus parked in an unfamiliar location. I still remember the location. It was a packed dirt parking lot filled with buses somewhat close to the town’s blue water tower. It was almost a sky blue and looked like a mechanical ellipsoid.
After leaving the bus I made it to the road. I did not know where to go. I was only 5 and did not know where I was.
The only thing that I could do was sit on the curb and cry. I’m not sure how long after my tears started that a lady, in what I remember as, a brown boxy sedan pulled up. I only remember that she did and offered me a ride to the police station.
At first I did not want to go with this stranger, but she seemed nice and there were car seats in the back of her car. To 5 year old me that meant she was a mom and safe.
She did bring me to the police station.
I cannot tell you what questions were asked once I was there. I’m not sure many people could understand me well, since I had a speech impediment. That did not inhibit them in finding where I belonged.
Soon I was asked if I wanted to ride in the sergeant’s car or a cruiser. After they explained the difference I picked one. I cannot remember which one I actually picked. I didn’t really care. My only goal was to be somewhere familiar.
The police officer brought back to school where I believe my mom picked me up.
From that day on I have been a lighter sleeper, especially while in a moving vehicle.
I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.
You wonder and you ask me
Does your hope fly up in the sky?
Do you need your dreams to hide from reality?
Can you stop now from chasing your wants?
You see
I could give up and I could lie down.
I could turn away if you showed me how.
I would watch t.v. or read the whole night long
my time would be only all mine.
Yes,
I could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away if you showed me how
My nights would be free, my weekends filled with sleep.
And Alcohol, well it would be my best friend.
I really could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away. Please showed me how.
Life would be much easier, easier for me.
Easier to catch a breath, easier to do anything,
but that’s not me.
That cannot be me.
I am my dreams, not this reality.
I guess
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.
I will paint my thoughts and write what’s in my heart.
My time will belong to my dreams.
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.
My nights will be filled, my weekends hugged by hope.
And I will dance where my dream may go.
Because
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.
I don’t typically write songs as you may know, so getting a finished song done is tricky for me. I believe the words are almost there, which is why I’m sharing them with you. I am still working on the tune and notes.
Please let me know what you think of it. Any and all feedback is welcomed.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.
My dreams and goals seem crazy to me at times. They are so grand and lofty. They almost seem impossible. Yet, every time I attempt to downsize my dreams it does not work. Even if I am able to shrink them for a time, they will grow.
I want to say my dreams grow like weeds, but they are much more beautiful than your common weed. They are more like wild flowers, growing wherever and however they like, but doing so rather beautifully.
They are currently blossoming with the goal of supporting myself as an author and artist, who can then work on acting again. I want to be known for these three things. I can see myself achieving this and I am working towards these goals, that is why I call it a goal and not a dream. Dreams are just goals without a plan. I believe Dave Ramsey said something along those lines and I believe it is true.
My current dream includes marrying a musically talent actor, having 2 kids with him, and building a life with him. In my dream, I’m producing t.v. shows and acting in movies. Also, I want to be able to live off of 10% of my income and give the rest to God’s work and charities. I have no actual plans or steps in achieving any of these dreams. Perhaps one day when I am supporting myself as an author, artist, and actress, I will then be able to plan for my dreams.
I do want to mention that I don’t just want a lot of money, but I want to be able to make a big difference in the lives of others in a notable, positive way.
Where I am sitting right now these dreams and goals are large and scary, but they are mine. I am happy with always reaching for more, even though it is frustrating or a real struggle sometimes. I think I’ll stop trying to downsize my dreams, instead I’ll upgrade my work habits.
I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.
If you follow my instagram you’ll notice that I have been focusing this account on my artwork. I have been posting more frequently and honestly being more creative in general recently. This is because I’m back on the goals and dream wagon.
I fell off the dreams and goals wagon for a little while. It at least fells like a short period of time, but it appears to be about a year. I have been writing a book and I have painted during that time. I was mostly focus on the book and my visual art creations found themselves on a back burner for most of that year.
I have found a balance and I am focused on all my goals again. I woke up from a haze of partial laziness. I’m watching less television, and drawing and writing more.
I posted 10 different visual art pieces onto instagram in September. Although most are fast doodles I am proud of them. I am also happy that I was able to add that many to my account that hardly saw any use before September. The consistent practice of this past month is important and I am glad that I am continuing with it.
All art forms are like muscles, you have to use your talents in order to strengthen and improve them.
With the practice I have done of this past month I have learned a few lessons.
1.) Drawing with a blue or red pencil is fine for some people but not for me. If I start with color I will use all the colors that are appropriate for the picture.
2.)When digitally drawing be aware of how much you zoom in. In the picture below there is suppose to be scales. I zoomed in too much and you hardly can see the scales.
3.) If I plan out the words and take my time, I can make pretty cool lettering art work. –As a side note the picture below will be made into a t-shirt at some point.
4.)Color schemes are important and limiting yourself to a specific color scheme can be create an interesting picture, even if it doesn’t look like anything specific.
5.)Experimenting with a new technique can be fun, but should be done in the correct medium or at least a medium you are familiar with. I do not typically paint landscapes in watercolors.
6.)Practice a certain subject and playing with its shape can teach you about the subject. It will also help you hone in your skills.
7.)Finding inspiration in other artists’ work and recreating one of their pieces can teach you about your style and skills.
8.) Taking chances in painting can be rewarding and create paintings that you are proud of, even if they are not done yet.
9.) Even doodles can teach you things. For example, they can show you that you like drawing simple characters or heads.
10.) Simple characters do not mean similar characters or simple personalities.
That is all the visual art pieces I created and the lessons they taught me for this past month. I am going to attempt to continue sharing my journey towards my dreams with you.
If you have any feedback or suggestions on anything relating to art work, please let me know. Feedback, questions and suggestions are welcomed and very much appreciated.
Now please, have a wonderful day.
The twirling pen yearns.
It yearns to kiss the paper again;
like a caged bird who desires to fly free.
It sees the unstrung violin;
the beautiful instrument that can only sigh.
Yes, instead of releasing it’s ink,
as it is meant to,
my pen twirls and whirls.
It dance through my fingers,
the same pattern repeats.
It yearns to kiss its beloved paper once more.
Yet it only spins,
like the unstrung violin,
its purpose is unfulfilled.
If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.