A variety of things inspire writing. A phrase, an idea, a smell, a taste can spark that need for expression. Much of what I write begins with a simple word. I will think of a word and consciously attempt to compose something in relation to it. This proves effective sometimes. Other times it blows up in my face.
All that to say, I am looking for words! I am fortunate to have so many gifted writers in my WordPress network and I am now reaching out for your expertise and vocabulary! (feeling used or exploited yet?)
Throw some words my way and I will attempt to cobble something worthwhile out of them. The spectrum of words offered can range from ostentatious to plain. Once a composition has been created with the use of the suggested word, I will certainly credit the word contributor. What is the incentive for readers to help me out in this manner? A slightly less Grumpy Gorman and maybe an ice cream cone!
(my looking for inspiration face!)
Thank you for your help!
After an unexpected snowfall yesterday, today’s warmth has melted most of it away leaving things a slushy mess. I stepped outside to let out my dog and I noticed that the snow in this tree looked a bit like cotton balls. This made me smile for some reason. (pardon the photo quality)
© Anthony Gorman 2017
in Ottawa, Canada we have a storied history of substantial snow and ice storms and at 39 years of age my adaptation to our winters has never really progressed. I dread the heavy snow blankets and gloom of the ashen skies on these shortened days, feeling trapped, whiny and anxious.
Today is a snow day.
I am fully aware that in the scope of the world’s issues, a snow storm is a fairly innocuous blip in an otherwise very blessed life yet, as the inches pile on the ground, I can’t escape the feeling that I am slowly being buried along with it.
Tea helps. 😉
As someone who currently pours countless hours of time and energy (for better or for worse) into creative expression through music and writing and learning how to advance and improve related skills, I often find that ego and envy obscure my ability to fully appreciate the art of others.
I am not sure if it’s due to lack of self-esteem, a competitive nature or the blinders of inspiration but it is challenging to absorb a stunning painting, an impassioned poem or brilliant movie without being distracted by thoughts of “Why didn’t I think of that?”, or “I am going to go home tonight and write that, only better!”
It’s a shame, really. Getting in my own way of appreciation of what others’create is shortchanging myself in the process. Does anyone else experience this kind of ego-centered thought pattern when engaging with other peoples’ art, or am I the only prick in the boat?
If so, that’s okay I kind of like my own company. There goes that ego again! 😉
One of the ways I know I am getting old is in my adoration of receiving new socks as gifts at Christmas. As a child, there was nothing more heinous than tearing into a cracking present wrapping to find a fun-pack of three pairs of tube socks. Nothing confirmed Santa’s disdain for our yearly behaviour portfolio than boring old foot gloves.
In present day, the anticipation of receiving new wooly socks to replace my current worn holy abominations is exciting and kindles warmth in parts of my body I had forgotten existed. Will they be patterned or striking black?? Will they feel like silky cloths against my rough feet or will they snuggle into my toes like little foot blankets?? Oh, I hope that Santa can look past my shenanigans and tantrums over the past year to bring me the one gift I truly want – SOCKS!!! The one gift that allows me to appreciate the marvels of the world, one cushioned step at a time.
Thank you for reading and all the best!