Tag Archive | Creativity
The difference between creativity and inspiration
Originally posted on Suffolk Scribblings:
There is a big difference between creativity and inspiration yet many people assume they are the same. One of the comments I often read on Twitter is that a writer doesn’t feel in the mood, that today isn’t a creative day, that their muse isn’t with them. It sometimes comes…
I hung many shinny things on us
Originally posted on Wuji Seshat:
There is no remedy for love but to love more. ~ Henry David Thoreau Photo Credits: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Railway-473032196 i Love is like a foreign language once you hear it, you want to hear it more speak it without it sounding alien though she will behave here as in a schoolbook for…
Variations of a beauty lover
Originally posted on Wuji Seshat:
The only thing that can save the world is the reclaiming of the awareness of the world. That’s what poetry does. ~ Allen Ginsberg I’ve made liquid nicknames for the incomparable feelings of Earth the peculiar surrealism of suffering a dance of cycles and poverty in seasons and prosperity in…
SECRET LETTERS TO DAYBREAK
Originally posted on Wuji Seshat:
My favorite font would have to be, poetry Each letter is a gem that haunts The very notion of memory & attachment Dark fountain splash cursive In the breeze of cherished fantasies The lonely streets of personal dreams My favorite alphabet would have to be, poetic The poetic vocabulary, I…
Excerpt from Cats, Cupcakes, and Creativity
Originally posted on DrGlitter: Inspiration for Teens:
Inspiration… Inspiration comes in many forms. It may boldly gallop your way, mesmerizing you with its certainty, beauty, and clarity as it endures the obstacles of rough terrain, compelling you to move, to admire, to break the stillness. Or it may encapsulate itself in a bleak day’s tiny…
THE DEMANDS OF SOLITUDE
Originally posted on Wuji Seshat:
My mind’s walls glows stars The nightstand of my eternity Is blushing a feverish pitch For Cleaning, self and foreigners And purity behind the doors I no longer can eat meat Said the pork to my nose I awoke to a dream of a Cactus Garden Where I could learn…
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 