Moon flirting in clouds
Fall in love again, as if
Pierced by her arrow
It’s been a long summer full of late nights. To be completely up to date, catch up with me on Twitter. It gets exciting sometimes ; )
Have been experimenting with poetry forms other than the haiku while continuing to haiku. Robot and Turtle continue their adventures. As You Like It was a success, although the weather cut down on the number of shows we managed to do. But I once again fell in love with the thought of wandering through Arden and recreating myself, so that was a plus.
Still watching Love Live as it cheers up Flash, who we hope is in a recovery phase from a bad patch. Good leadership lessons and I’m always interested in the backstage dynamics of performers. Plus, Nico x Maki really does have irresistible chemistry.
Want to catch Kubo at the movies but Gayle’s schedule has changed so everything’s a little off. Weather almost leans cool some nights.
Haven’t been reading much that isn’t fan fiction although I did hit the library. Found a book of award winning short short plays from 2014-2015 (I believe). Made me appreciate Shakespeare’s gift for setting a scene, internally or externally, and left me with the urge to read something written by Fannie Flagg, who has a flair for detail and conversation.
And that should tide you over for tonight. Enjoy your Tuesday.
When not reading Love Live fan fiction(story for another blog post that starts with needing new manga to read plus trying to cheer up a sick cat who likes listening to anime and goes from there…but at least we’ve broken Flash’s Korra every night habit), not sleeping, rehearsing As You Like It or getting lost in rainy green gulches, poetry happens.
Haiku The Metaphor
Green tree grey storm meet
No merge, push, no pause, clash, no
Break the air whips clear
Last night’s poem
Light steals Her, not Night
Night steals Sleep, Not Dark
Dark steals Calm, Not Worry
Worry steals Breath, Not Dawn
Dawn steals Her, Not Light
Reposted from my Tumblr:
Howdy. I have already found a song titled “Restless & Reckless” so that’s a haiku that’s not being written tonight (and I once wrote a poem titled “Naked, with scissors, curling” that captures that mood, so I might as well rant.
Hmmm…topic Had the read-through for As You Like It this evening. Busy week of Shakespeare, which means I can’t think about writing and have to sneak in cartooning. But the thing I was thinking about writing is problematic anyway so maybe a good rant will clear it out of the space it’s currently screaming around in,
I think manga and anime may have ruined me for the writing of novels. Since I started reading mostly yuri manga last summer, my brain has been connecting things in new ways.
1. I discovered girls have feelings. I don’t just have feelings; the other party in a relationship does too. Simplified version, yes, but I feel a little sorry for anyone with a crush on younger me who thought they were being completely ignored. Because they were. It worked out. If I’d discovered I liked girls or starting reading yuri manga in high school, I’m not sure how that would have worked out. The SAT scores probably would have been ok, that’s a one off test. Of course, I did read Camelot 3000 when it came out and pretty completely missed the duh moment when Tristan and Isolde meet the trail of roses. Obliviousness, thy name is my youth. More people should try it. It’s charms are underrated. And it’s wonderful sometimes when the right person blasts through everything with a ‘notice ME.’
2. I’ve always loved comics, but they were superhero comics so mostly FIGHTING, And saving the world. And since I read the Legion of Superheroes, some dating. And I liked the dating stuff. I would have never said that to you at the time, but I had my favorite Legion couples all picked out and the issues with interactions were my favorite issues.
But manga, at least what I’ve been reading, is less save the world and more get to that first date. There are some categories I will not read and some I would rather not know existed, but there are some great love stories contained within some that clarified how both parties in a romance could think entirely different things, all feelings could be valid and there were inner lives that I HAD NO IDEA ABOUT. Because nobody had matched words and pictures for me before.
Well, movies had, and Fred Astaire musicals. Gesture mattered. Movement unlocks levels and labyrinths of meaning. Duh. Something I have always known and yet just now realized.
Which means that manga and anime has not ruined me for theatre. It has focused my appreciation of small moments, hands reaching, glances, physically expressing words, bringing them into being, creating atmosphere with how an actor moves in and through space. It’s exciting to think of possibilities.
It’s been troublesome to wonder what this is going to do to long form storytelling for me. I am considering both returning to pastel animations in the Fall or giving something comic-like a decent effort. I’ve been using too much spectrum letting myself worry and yet not write. Writing is still a vital tool in my arsenal of expression, but what future paths it may follow is a contemplation for an afternoon cloud watching not a 3 a.m. rant.
Off the top of my head manga list: Notes From The Garden Of Lilies, Candy, Collectors, Their Story, Fluttering Feelings (sadly on hiatus), Lily Love, Karuha’s makiXnico stories, Girlfriends. And many of Takemiya Jin’s works. Oh and Nozaki-kun. Nozaki-kun is a hoot both in it’s manga and anime form.
Ah, exhaustion. Plan worked. Good night. Dream well.
Measured between glare
And laughter, touch and shatter
Every fight reverbs
My new short story has been released into the universe. Read the start, then pick it up at Amazon.
“Mace was missing and The Minotaur was in town. I could smell him; they had that much in common and a little more history behind them than she ever really got around to telling me. Mace had never really been much of a talker. That was the great thing about stopping by to see her — you sit at the counter, you drink your coffee, you watch her knit…occasionally, the amethyst gleam behind her loose hair softened a little and you got the feeling she might like having you sit there, but it was never a regular thing, just an occasional gift. But now, the Minotaur was in town, hat hooked on his horns, attitude caught in the door, warnings on the wind. Mace must have caught the scent early, but I’d never known her to flee. So I checked into it. Nobody was paying me enough not to be curious. As usual, nobody was paying me at all.
I had just wanted coffee when I left my office…and maybe a little bit of friendly chat, a nod in my direction, an acknowledgement of my existence. You’ve had ‘em: nights when even the wind in the alleys cried from loneliness and the streets were so empty and the sky so dark that your footsteps whimpered instead of echoing…nights when you were certain that if someone didn’t nod at you soon, you’d be back at the mirror, making sure there was still some sparkle twinkling back at you, some breath on the glass. You know and I know, even if I hate to admit it, that there are nights when you need people and there are those people you find on those nights. It’s part of the gravity of being human, when the dark and the dire pull at you, there are people who pull you back. And that night, I was staring into a vortex. So I locked up the office, turned off the phone and headed down the street — to a little more warmth, a little less lonely.
Do you make plans? Don’t. I’m telling you. Just don’t. Plans are a bad habit, a crutch, a weak place for the universe to sneak up and kick you. The universe is coming now, quietly, creepingly, about to leap…your plans see it and they’re bolting in the other direction, down that alley with the flickering light at the end of it, leaving us, you and me, here. So we go get coffee — I know a great place, wait’ll you meet the owner, sure, I’ll pay — and then the real trap is sprung. There wasn’t even a closed sign or a ‘be back in ten minutes’ notice on the door…just a chain. No Mace…now, this, this was a new lonely.”