Strike a Balance

I'll be honest with you, the last couple of days I've been pretty grumpy.  I have been challenging myself to move past my own complacency.  I've extended some invitations to co-workers to have lunch...folks who I find interesting and who I'd like to get to know better.  You would think...it's socializing 101...but for me it doesn't come easy. Being a creative person, I tend to live in my head and I get VERY comfortable staying in my little shell. For the most part, I don't mind being a loner but I'm trying something new. It's not always comfortable nor is it very easy.

Lately, I miss writing. I've been jotting down notes, zygotes of ideas, barely fully formed that are worming their way to the surface.  I feel a little lost when I am not actively engaged with creative writing in some form every single day.  For me, jotting down lines just doesn't feel like it's ever really enough.  Hmm, that sounds like my Type A personality rearing it's head, excuse me while I put her back in that closet. Yes, still wresting between over-working and under-working.  Where to strike the balance?

Like this for instance...I wrote on the train home one night.

A couple huddles in a dark embrace 

of tongue, teeth and wet lips

who are they but youthful gods

searching for their power 

in the mouth 

in the love 

of an(other)

a reflection of potential being

the city alight with possibilities

future wakefulness.  

Not really sure yet what it needs to become but the words are on the page at least.  

Why am I not writing?  I am still dealing with some health issues that are not fully resolved so after a full day of work all I can really do is crash.  So the tidbits of scrap paper at the bottom of my purse and the notes in my lavender-colored notebook will have to do for now until I can begin again.  Today-Wednesday April 30th, I've completed two months of working at this new job.  It's been an adjustment and I'm still adjusting but more importantly I need to do my own creative work to balance out my day job. All for now will write more soon.  

Peace,

Lily~

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2014 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Josh Kaufman-Stay with Me

Josh Kaufman sung a cover of Sam Smith's Stay with Me on The Voice.  I can't stop listening to this version because I love Kaufman's voice.  Just wanted a quick share moment.

Will write more soon.
L~


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2014 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

The Realistic Joneses by Will Eno

Last night, I went to see The Realistic Joneses at Lyceum Theatre written by Will Eno and directed by Sam Gold.  Cast included Toni Collette as Jennifer, Tracy Letts as Bob, Michael C. Hall as John and Marisa Tomei as Pony.  They had wonderful chemistry on stage.  I am a huge fan of Toni Collette and her timing with both Letts and Hall was spot on.  She brought a wonderful humanity as a wife dealing with her husband's illness.  Tomei played a bright, fresh character but I wish the part was less of a flakey ditz.

The story revolves around two couples dealing (or not dealing) with the challenges of illness and how they communicate their reality to other human beings about it.  The comedic factor was on the high side, the story arc itself was a bit on the low side. Partly because the interspersed scenes felt disjointed and at times the play felt as if there were scenes missing from the story. This play is an hour and 45 minutes long without an intermission and by the last scene I could feel/hear the restlessness of the audience.

Will Eno has an amazing talent for wit, humor and one-liners and on the dramatic side he captures the loneliness that we face when trying to deal with something that is beyond our control. His work inspires me.  The play itself may have had some issues but his craftsmanship is superb.  Thank you Mr. Eno for reminding me why I love the theater so much.  Now I'm off to my writing group and better still...the seeds of an idea are starting to sprout for my next play.  Sweet!!

Peace,

L~
 

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2014 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Circle

Walking the dark streets

travel logs in back pockets

youth with an order of fries

everywhere kissing bodies

collapse upon each other

thin rain blurs a stranger’s face

softening the hard edges

we are fractured lyrics

repeating the bridge, piena voce.

Reflective streets light us up

someone picks up a human tooth

slips it into a pocket for safekeeping

remember when you OD’d

you reminded me to keep breathing

strum suspension wires, rhythm

five points away from each other

You’ve used up eight lives, you

only have one life left to live, sotto voce.

Good fortunes are too fancy in copper

bowls, echoes collect on voicemail.

All our lives are hidden in pieces

on hand-held devices. Deities

sleep in white shrouds, secluded.

Our words seldom match our thoughts,

if it weren’t for the rain we’d char

each other’s edges. The scent

of burning wood stop us in our tracks. 

Listen to the hush that befalls us. 

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2013 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

Five Points

Fingertips strike out seconds, push

along in a jagged momentum. You,

wrapped up in blankets, poetry and

careless entropy. 

We strive to cross off our time

together. I offend you when I laugh

loudly but my quiet mouth

puts you on edge. Your chatter

marks away more light.

A bottle full of water is best left

untouched, save it for a rainy day.

I hop from one foot to the next

waiting for hours to melt me back

onto a train, heading home. 

It’s been awhile since we laughed

over vapid movies and I smelled

your raw scent.  Open a bottle

of wine, pour us a taste.  We belong

in a song’s refrain.

Six a.m. writing lines, a nest of notes

built of scrap paper bloom at the bottom

of my purse.  I promise to throw out

the next poem about rain no matter

where we wind up. 

Black ashes and oil across our foreheads

ten lives out of mind.  You are concrete

when you cough, second hand moves

only when the scaffolding comes off.

Keep talking without stopping, so what

if I’ve left the room.  A dark sky, a red hand,

a grey goose circumscribes the dull ache of living.             

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2013 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.