"Pay attention to the weather, to what breaks your heart, to what lifts your heart. Write it down."
Today was all about exploring the coastal trail, sitting, writing and moving on to a new spot and repeating.
I find it interesting how words easily come in and out, mostly steady like the waves. Sometimes there will be a bigger wave that crashes harder- sometimes it is painful, sometimes it is inspiring. The day was gorgeous, full of pelicans and seagulls and sand and scattered white fluffy clouds and hot chowder and delicious seafood.
My 7-year-old niece got a hold of the book of poems I wrote for my dad's Christmas present. And now she is officially obsessed with poetry. It's endearing, but she also keeps me on my toes, constantly asking me to tell her a poem. On Friday, my brain started to hurt after awhile and I wanted to eat my dinner, so I changed it into a game where I would make up one poem stanza, and then pass the mic. This would give me 30 seconds to get in another bite of food before it was my turn again.
Last week, my mom took her to Lawrence Hall of Science and all she wanted to do was write a poem. So she sat there and began to write, "It was a blustery autumn day…" when my mom answered, "Kaia, it's winter time." She very matter-of-factly responded, "It's my poem. I can write whatever I want to."
She's only seven. And she's brilliant.
So the next time you feel stuck creatively, take her advice. Don't feel obligated to conform.
Write whatever you want to.
You will be pleasantly surprised.
-Ellen Meloy
 |
| #oceantherapy |
 |
| "I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order." -John Burroughs |
I find it interesting how words easily come in and out, mostly steady like the waves. Sometimes there will be a bigger wave that crashes harder- sometimes it is painful, sometimes it is inspiring. The day was gorgeous, full of pelicans and seagulls and sand and scattered white fluffy clouds and hot chowder and delicious seafood.
 |
| Sunset from the deck of Sam's Chowder House |
My 7-year-old niece got a hold of the book of poems I wrote for my dad's Christmas present. And now she is officially obsessed with poetry. It's endearing, but she also keeps me on my toes, constantly asking me to tell her a poem. On Friday, my brain started to hurt after awhile and I wanted to eat my dinner, so I changed it into a game where I would make up one poem stanza, and then pass the mic. This would give me 30 seconds to get in another bite of food before it was my turn again.
Last week, my mom took her to Lawrence Hall of Science and all she wanted to do was write a poem. So she sat there and began to write, "It was a blustery autumn day…" when my mom answered, "Kaia, it's winter time." She very matter-of-factly responded, "It's my poem. I can write whatever I want to."
She's only seven. And she's brilliant.
So the next time you feel stuck creatively, take her advice. Don't feel obligated to conform.
Write whatever you want to.
You will be pleasantly surprised.