Trees have shed their autumn blush
They wait now in expectant hush
For snow to weigh their branches
Dry leaves tickle frosted ground
Searching for banks to huddle round
And whisper windy secrets
The air was brusque, now colder still
It shivers with a winter's chill
But I, inside, don't feel it
My needles and hook are bundled up
In colorful yarn and softest fluff
That transform in my hands
Cozy scarves and tiny hats
Then a pair of mittens to match
All crafted together with love
Clothed in warm accessories
We'll brave the chill and rake the leaves
To welcome drifting snow
Frenzied leaves spin in the wind
Tousled by fall's frigid breath
Hoping for a few more dances
Before being buried in winter frosting
I'm shivering on my bed
Soon to be in the bed
And I heard that snow is coming... Too soon!
We're barely in October and
The leaves still need to dress for autumn
Don't bring winter yet!
Outside I hear the wind
Gusting change through the air
I am caught between seasons
Hardly knowing which to curl up in to stay
My head knows change is good, healthy
Brings new dreams and new springs and
Growth after cold
I tune it out for a spell
Content to cozy under comforters
Pretending it will be warmer
In the morning
A friend of mine stated earlier this year that "a professional is someone who exercises their craft whether they feel like it or not." I thought that was an insightful definition. It also reminded me that all evidence points to me not being a professional blogger.
But I've also realized that that's perfectly okay. It's okay for other things to be more important than this blog.
When I'm on a project, my relationship to the internet is one of near hibernation. Then afterward, it can take a little while for my creative side to start pumping again. But whether I want to "publish" the content or not, I still enjoy matchmaking words, so I've devised another outlet to contain my writings until they are ready to see the light of online day.
A notebook. Blank, inviting lined pages.
Not a journal. In this volume lie no expectations of time or content. No theme, no rules, no pressure. In fact, I've made a bookmark to remind me of that, as well as keep my place. A place where I can write fragmented sentences and half-finished lyrics and terrible puns and first-draft thought-spills.
Some of these may make it out of the notebook. Eventually. But they wouldn't have to. Part of the purpose is to retrain my brain to not shut out 95% of the so-called dumb ideas that might visit. Because--maybe the dumb part about them could be rehabilitated somehow. That's the hope, but not the pressure!
Anyways, there you have it. My attempt to harness trains of thought before they get derailed. :) And now I'm rambling about it. But that could be a good thing, right? Better sometimes to ramble than close up inside. Looks like I just succeeded in writing an entire post about not writing a post. "Sometimes I impress myself!" (That's a quote from a movie, but don't worry if you don't recognize it; most people won't)
In other news, I just got back home from another feature film shoot. This was my 9th credit as a script supervisor, and I also did a decent voice-over role for the movie as the police dispatcher. Check out StoneTable Films on Facebook for cool behind the scenes stuff. I made some new, very good friends on this set!