Today is the second day this week that I’ve woken up at 5:30 am. The first 30 minutes is about getting a big mug of tea, feeding Pandora (cause she’s always hungry), and moving around to wake my brain up.
I sat down today and started up the next scene between Dylan and Mona, wouldn’t you know it, my critic Taz perked up in my last ten minutes of writing. (I am now calling my inner critic Taz, after Tasmanian Devil since it wrecks havoc on my writing life.) You see, I was writing along everything was going fine. Then I began writing this interaction that I was starting to feel unsure of. It was a ripe opportunity for my inner critic to pounce on.
It went something like this, “if this happens next it’s too obvious. That’s not good writing. Who’s going to take you seriously if you write that?”
I almost balked and stopped writing. But this tiny voice came up from the back of my brain that said, “F**k it! If it’s obvious you can always re-write. In fact, write the obvious. Have fun. Make it as obvious as you possibly can. Who knows you might discover something.”
And guess what? I discovered something. It’s just a nugget of an idea. Even now, I’m getting goose bumps because it might actually work. I won’t let the cat out of the bag. Not yet. I wrote up a couple of quick lines to point me in the direction of that nugget and finished up my writing jag this morning by 7 am. I wrote 4 pages and 1 line on the next page and it feels freaking awesome!!
After just two days of writing in the morning, I feel my optimism start to spring alive. What’s that about? I am the consummate pessimist and take great pride in it. After all, I am a New Yorker (pronounced Noo Yawker). LOL! Even as I write that out, I’m really not taking myself too seriously about being a pessimist. It’s too early in the day, the sun is shining and the air is cool and brisk. For a change, it feels good to be working steadily on my creative work. I can face my day job with a smile on my face and a Sade song in my head.
Hoorah!!
L~
P.S. If anyone is going to be in downtown Brooklyn today (Tues 9/21), there is an Art Opening at BAM Peter Jay Sharp Bldg (30 Lafayette) tonight at 6 pm. See you there!
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2010 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.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
A Delicate Flower
Someone please tell me that it hasn't been 19 days since I last wrote on this blog. Good grief, where does the time go? I've been working this week on my play and I took in 19 pages to my writing group. The feedback I received was so right on but it also meant I needed to ax the first scene. Yikes! I am so glad that we are getting back into the swing of writing group again. Their encouragement makes me want to write more. Positive reinforcement is lovely and it works wonders for my delicate sensibility. Hehehe. That last sentence made me giggle, I sound like a delicate flower. I have to admit, sometimes I am when it comes to playwriting these days. I am trying to encourage myself to get through a whole play again. I am focusing only as far as the next scene.
Anyway, last night I started making the changes and it was easier than I expected. It meant re-working scene 2 and fleshing out the relationship between Dylan and Mona so that big gaping holes of info wouldn't be so noticeable. Ha! My inner critic keeps pointing out the holes. I keep moving forward.
I've just finished reading week 3 of Julia Cameron's Finding Water: The Art of Perseverance. She writes about how just writing three pages a day demystified the weight of being a writer. "Freed from the weight of my entire identity, writing became something I did more lightly. Writing itself became easier, less tortured, less self-important. I became a woman who wrote..." Her words came alive for me. I've been putting so much pressure of finding large chunks of time to work that I wasn't acknowledging the small moments of writing that I've been doing a day. Sometimes it's just an hour, sometimes it's jotting a phrase or an idea while I'm on the subway. My wheels are constantly turning and the words are coming out. But I find that I don't give myself much credit despite the work that I am doing.
I open my mouth to loosen up the tight jaw muscles...too much time clenching my teeth. I want to loosen up and just write. So I am committing myself this week to getting up at 6 am every morning to write for an hour. Eventually, I'd like to get up at 5:30 am but easy does it, I am not much of a morning person. That way my day job won't feel so constricting to my creative life. All for now, wish me luck.
L~
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2010 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.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Precious Poems
Delicate lyrical lines
float on tippy-toes
satin ballet shoes
across an empty page.
Spoken in feathery-
light hushed tones
Skin easily bruised
like a ripe peach
against a fingernail.
Presence caresses
nuances so subtle,
it does not ripple.
Here comes a careless
stamp that throttles
the wordscape
with empty threats
and balled fists.
Here comes the voice
thunder awake
the sleeping poet
pointing to this
and that. Look
purple flowers
creeping vine
around a wooden pole.
Do something with that.
Look a clock outside
is never on time. Write
about that. Precious
muted standing amid
Times Square’s cacophony .
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2010 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.
float on tippy-toes
satin ballet shoes
across an empty page.
Spoken in feathery-
light hushed tones
Skin easily bruised
like a ripe peach
against a fingernail.
Presence caresses
nuances so subtle,
it does not ripple.
Here comes a careless
stamp that throttles
the wordscape
with empty threats
and balled fists.
Here comes the voice
thunder awake
the sleeping poet
pointing to this
and that. Look
purple flowers
creeping vine
around a wooden pole.
Do something with that.
Look a clock outside
is never on time. Write
about that. Precious
muted standing amid
Times Square’s cacophony .
All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2010 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.
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