Todd went to bed early tonight. He has been slightly under the weather, and yet he is helping my aunt out of a jam and doing her papers anyway. He really needs to stay home from work and just get well, but his employer needs him and Todd won't let him down. He is a good man. But with Todd in bed, and the girls in bed, I stayed up and read a book--much to late. But I enjoyed the quiet house and the time to enduldge in my book (Gables against the sky for those who know it). It has been quite a while since I stayed up this late in a quiet house. I loved being up after everyone else went to sleep. It puts me in the mood to write.
I haven't done much creative writing since school. Most of my writing is self expression, but all I have done recently I would refere to as blood essays. My professor at the writing center had us write one every semester. The critieria was that it had to be guy honest and about what ever tangle we needed to write about. I admit, I still write them to this day to help me figure out me and my life and my feelings and ... so much more. They have been very useful.
But I will admit, I have written only one poem since collage. It was recently, and I got out of the shower to write it down, and it was gone. I was disappointed; it thought it was a good one. I can remember the jist, but can't seem to get the right wording again. But it did help me to express some emotion I needed to then let it go.
I have started to write more of my story about my dad and Todd (not that I want to go into a lot of detail just now)--now that I understand it better. But usually it is in the shower. I haven't sat down and put it to paper yet. I want to. I need to spend more nights up like this I guess. Running and screaming kids does not lend itself to my creative muses.
But before I go, I will leave you with one of my older poems. I hope to post others here. I wrote them--might as well share them too. (Please forgive me if Blogger doesn't translate my creative placement).
Midnight Dedicated to Cyntha Mann Brady
I kick off my shoes,
detach my sparkling earrings,
and unclasp the matching necklace;
let the yards of satin fall to the floor
and trade them for tattered flannels
the culrs fall
and the night is over.
But for a while,
I was a princess.
April 2001
I will admit, my teacher didn't like this poem. But I have always had a special place in my heart for it. It reminds me of prom nights. No longer do I think of the boys who graciously took me or kisses stolen at the door. But I think of afterward or before I left and how beautiful I felt. I also think of my sister Cyntha. She has always looked so much like the beautiful princess of fairy tales. Only Todd has made me feel as beautiful as she looks. I really am a lucky mann!
But the night is slipping away, and my kids will get up in the morning. And I am creating a little body right now--talk about creating!! I need to go to bed despite how reluctant I am to let go of the magic that only comes late at night after everyone else has gone to bed.
2 comments:
Remind me of how Robert seems to forget what he says when he grabs a paper and pen to jot down his poems. He hasn't written a poem in a long time but i have a binder of them. He framed two of them and put them on our wall above the piano. He does a great job! I wish I could be that creative but I can't even do English papers. Sad really oh well LOL!
In reading and re-reading Elder Uchdorph's talk from the woman's confrence, I am realizing that creativty comes in all forms. You keep in touch and create a good feeling in your friends. I feel comfortable and good about myself around you--you create that. And you have created two beautiful kids. And despite your circumstances have created positive attitudes and love.
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