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 A new blog to contain answers to prompts |
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas "  became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one. Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.  |
| Prompt: “Earth and sky, woods and fields, lakes and rivers, the mountain and the sea, are excellent schoolmasters, and teach some of us more that what we could learn from books.” John Lubbock Of the natural features, what is your favorite type? Oceans, mountains, etc. ------------ It is difficult to choose, really. I like all nature even the wildest of its animals. They, as everything else in nature, are all my favorites, in essence. Maybe, this is why I never liked to swim in a manmade pool, but in the ocean. As the quote says, earth and sky, woods and fields, lakes and rivers, the mountains, and the sea are all very beautiful and with their own personalities. Maybe this is because they are teachers older than ink and paper, older than my voice or anyone else's that ever set words to a page. So, I've come to the conclusion that knowledge is not just a matter of words, but of watching, waiting, feeling, of letting the world write itself upon my senses. Thus, patience, I've learned from the earth, as roots burrow into it and blossoms and flowers wait their turn. Hopefully I've also learned humility from both the earth and the sky. They both remind me how small I am. Earth to embrace me after my body ceases to breathe and the sky to show me I am less than a dot beneath it. Those mountains and their shadows remind me of strength and their silence is louder than any sermon. Woods and forests whisper of mystery and stillness while the rivers teach motion, the art of moving forward and learning to change course when conditions change. They also do not ever forget any stone they once touched. I should be that lucky with this not-forgetting thing! My lessons of vastness, wonder, and how beauty and terror can dwell together come from the oceans and the sea. In these lessons, I am not just a student but I am kin of the entire living world. For knowledge is not just words, but it is also watching, waiting, feeling, of letting the world write itself into my senses. |
| Prompt: Autumn Impressions "Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground." Andrea Gibson Write about what this quote brings to your mind? ------------- This quote brought to my mind nothing about autumn, but the dual love and curiosity I feel for life and death. To love life is an instinct hardwired into the very core of my existence, such as the sun's kiss on my skin, the laughter bubbling up from a baby, the warmth of my sons' hands in mine. It is the taste of my favorite foods, the thrill of discovering new things, the quiet comfort of my family even those who are far away, and the fierceness and determination of purpose I feel when I start a new task. Life, then, is a kaleidoscope of sensations, emotions, and connections as they paint my days with meaning. I can't say I love death, since I haven't experienced it yet; however, I have a fascination, morbid though it may be, with its timing, and a deep, quiet acceptance of it, some feeling almost tender, since I imagine it to be an achievement of a different kind of freedom and (I hope) possibly a more complete way of being. I suspect or can imagine death to be not as an end but as a transformation, something important to life, as if its life's partner in a lively dance. It is the turning of a leaf from green to gold, its eventual return to the earth to nourish new growth. Death gives life its poignant urgency and its preciousness. My dual respect and love is not a contradiction, nor is it pessimism. It is something that offers wisdom and harmony as if a light shining brightly against a backdrop of shadows. Then, doesn't music need its silences? Doesn't the brightness of the sunlight give its place to the calming of the moonlight? I think, therefore, to love life as well as death is to love existence wholly, beautifully, and without reservation. It is to be truly, utterly alive, until the very last breath, and beyond. |
| Prompt: “Bring down the curtain—the farce is over.” The last words of French philosopher and comic, Francois Rabelais What do you think of life? Is it really a farce? -------- Who knows! Life may well be a farce. Yet, I'd hate to think this farce to be meaningless. After all, we all are players in life. Also, which one of us ever stops the search for meaning while we are alive? No, we don't stop, and I won't stop. This is because life itself is fragile, and much of it can feel ridiculous, contradictory, and hollow. Yet, within the “farce” lies that search for meaning. And even foolish plays can carry a strange beauty. The awkward entrances, the ill-timed gestures, the hollow laughter...all of this is part of the spectacle. Yes, after when the curtain finally lowers, footlights fade, and the painted backdrop collapses into shadow, the actors dissolve into silence. Moreover, so far that I know, there is no encore. Maybe, no applause either. This could be because, in the first place, the set might have been borrowed, the lines half-learned, and the performance only temporary. So, this whole thing turns into a declaration that the roles we’ve been playing, the pretenses we’ve been maintaining, and the illusions we’ve been trapped in can no longer hold. And that silence after the last curtain is the most honest thing. It asks for no more laughter, no more applause, no more frantic improvisation. It is just a release. Maybe the deepest grace lies in bowing honestly at the end, knowing the farce was absurd, but that we gave it our brilliance, breath, and presence for as long as the curtain was lifted. |
| Prompt: Cousins “A cousin is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.” Marion C. Garretty Do you have cousins and how much do you like them? ----------- I love my cousins. All of them. Granted, I am closer to a handful few, but having been raised without siblings, my cousins became my siblings without the trouble that sometimes arises among the flesh-and-blood siblings. In my somewhat suppressed and thus chaotic childhood, my cousins became the golden threads that tied me to life's joys. They were always the unseen anchors. Those of them closer to my age became my gang and co-conspirators. Unlike with interactions with the adults, my interactions with my cousins were much freer. This is because we had a shared understanding born from navigating the same family dynamics, even if blood-linkage-wise, the family bond between us were second or third and thrice removed. Plus, I always thought my mother acted more nicely toward me when my cousins were around. When I was the only kid in the house, I guess she felt, it was the time to really bend and educate me to her ways. This made my cousins a safe harbor when my mother's upbringing storms felt too overwhelming. That must have been one of the reasons why I cried and begged an uncle and all the other elders to let a certain cousin who was only a year younger than me and with whom I got along with very well, to stay overnight or a few days in our house. Usually if that cousin's school schedule didn't interfere, the adults gave in. In adulthood, too, my cousins' importance deepened further even though life scattered us all over the world. Still, they are for me the keepers of our shared childhood, our family history. Moreover, most of them became the shelters I still take refuge in over the phone, even if I don't talk about my troubles or life at length. Just hearing their voices or getting a text message from them is a great comfort and it adds richness to my life. My cousins are the laughter echoing across generations with their quiet nods of understanding, with their hands reaching out across distances and decades. I am very grateful to God for putting my cousins in my life, as an extended network of love, understanding, and shared experience woven into the very fabric of my being. |
| Prompt: Have fun with these random words-- switch, x-ray, install, series, reconcile, dead, maze, cupboard and bother. ----------- My Inner Cupboard I open the *cupboard, dust falls slow in it, *nostalgia sleeps, from long ago I flick the *switch, light spills wide, an *x-ray glow on what I hide keepsakes *installed are in place as *series of ghosts I cannot face my silence is heavy, my heart feels *dead though I've *reconciled with what was said but my thoughts fly as medley and *maze darker in corners, in a hollow haze for memories bind me, I cannot sever some things I've kept, *bother me forever. |
| Prompt: On this day in 1976 The first episode of The Muppet Show, which was cocreated by Jim Henson, aired, and the TV series became hugely popular, known for a cast of puppet characters that included Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy. Did you see it when it originally aired? Which character is your favorite? What fun facts do you know about the Muppets? ----------------- I am more familiar with the earlier Sesame Street Shows than the Muppet shows. When my older son was a tiny tot, I used to sit him in his swing and he'd watch the Sesame Street. The year was 1969. At the time, we were living in an apartment. If I'm remembering correctly, he used to love Ernie and Kermit, but not so much Burt. Then, about a year later, he loved and preferred Oscar the Grouch, which worried my husband as to why our son appreciated a negative character. I'm so glad to say that, eventually, Oscar the Grouch left no ill-lasting effects on either of my sons. By the way, Miss Piggy annoyed my husband greatly, also. He thought she was a fake character and she was advertising, to young boys and girls, the idea, "Fat is good." After my younger son turned two in 1974, we moved to our own house, in which the boys had a separate large room with their toys in it, which they named, "Play Room," and they had their own TV there. It was next to the kitchen and the living rooms, so I could hear them all the time. As to the Muppet show that came later in 1976, I'm not sure I remember any of those shows, myself. We did, however, watch as a family several Muppet shows in my husband's study, where he sat in his desk and did some other thing, while I either sewed or read; however, we were both there to make the boys think we, too, were enjoying the Muppets. I am sure I watched half or whole shows of either the Sesame Street or the Muppet Show, but I can't recall any of it, now. At the time, my husband and I knew enough to converse about the shows with our sons. Our sons are both in their fifties now, and I suppose they might not recall any of this. Maybe for the better, as life has to go on. |
| Prompt: What is your idea of a cozy home? Write about this in your Blog entry today ---- A cozy home for me is a place where those who live in it live in peace without any strife but with cooperation and mutual respect. It is a haven where its occupants can just be themselves. This is because coziness isn't what one sees and touches. It isn't a place that is showroom-perfect with the finest, expensive things. It can be imperfect, lived-in (tell me about it!), and its walls and furniture serve as a sanctuary. For example, a comfortable chair is just a chair until I settle into it to read. Plus, I know where my things are, even though, at times, I make myself crazy, forgetting where I put anything, even a minute ago. Still, it is a soft landing, a gentle embrace, and a reminder to rest, reflect, and reconnect. As such, all furnishings and every aspect of the house tell me, its occupant, "You are home; you are safe; you can relax." A cozy home also shows the personal touches of the people who live in it. Its objects tell stories with its photographs on display that capture shared memories and souvenirs. These aren't just decorations, but they are the artifacts of a life, filled with meaning and history. I can say this because, at my age, my artifacts abound.  More than anything, my cozy home is also about the atmosphere where every detail, no matter how small, whispers to me the message of "Welcome. It is here, where you belong." |
| Prompt: "The tests of life are not to break you but to make you." Write about this in your Blog entry today. ------------ I am not so sure the tests of life have intellects that can come up with any kind of an aim. That is, the aim of going after us and to make or break us. It is up to us, however, to make the best of every situation and stay on top, at the end. Let me come up, then, with a scenario involving a blue earthen bowl to illustrate the tests of life. Suppose, once, on the highest shelf, there once was a favorite piece of pottery I've always liked. But then one day... The first shard of the pottery felt like a betrayal... It was a bowl I had made with my own hands, coiled and smoothed over hours in a dusty studio, glazed a deep, hopeful blue. I had placed it on the highest shelf, a trophy of my patience. But the earthquake, a brief, violent shrug of the earth, had other ideas. My blue bowl lay on the floor now, shattered into a dozen jagged pieces. I wanted to put it together again. As I worked at it and while piecing my blue bowl back together with seams of glue in shining gold, I understood. I understood why the earthquake and why the shattering... The bowl now sits finished on the table. Yet, it is not the same as the one that had sat on the shelf. It is infinitely more beautiful, more complex, more valuable. The web of golden veins tell a story of resilience, of fracture and repair. This happened because it was tested, and in its breaking, its true character surfaced. As such, life’s tests are the earthquake. They are sudden, violent, and often inexplicable shocks, and they threaten to shatter our original form. At first, we may think they are meant to destroy us, just to prove our fragility. But they are not. They are something similar to the kiln’s fire when it first formed us, and now, they are testing the quality of our spirit. And the breaking itself is not the end. It is the beginning of the truest creation. Our scars, our fractures, our healed-over pains are not flaws to be hidden in shame. They are the seams of gold. Possibly, no life is unbroken to sit prettily on a high shelf, untouched and gathering dust. The goal is a life that is mended and richly patterned with gold. It is a mosaic of all the times we are tested, but at the end, it shows we succeeded. And with flying colors. |
| Prompt: "There's a distance between wise-cracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wise-cracking is simply calisthenics with words." Dorothy Parker How short is the distance between wise-cracking and wit, and what do you think of wise-cracking people vs. people with wit? ------------ Both wise-cracking and wit live in the town of humor, in their essence. They are, however, not the same thing. To begin with, wise-cracking is shallow, usually exaggerated and spilt out as a reaction, but it is quick. It can also be funny in a way to shock, mock, sass, or rebel. I think I've used up my wise-cracking on my poor mother just only once or twice and her reaction cured me for life.  Still, wise-cracking can be a snappy comeback or a jab, which was never my forte, anyway. I can usually think of comebacks after the fact and after many hours or days, once I've finished stewing in my disillusionment. An example to a wise-crack to someone who has arrived late: “Oh, glad you could finally join us—did you stop to invent the wheel on the way here?” A witty way for the same situation, that may be more clever and less biting could be: “Ah, don't worry! You’ve arrived just in time—punctuality, after all, is only a matter of perspective.” After all, wit is like a candle's flame, steady, giving off light, and lingering in the mind, whereas a wise-crack goes off in a flash. Unlike a wise-crack, wit has more finesse. It is thoughtful, layered, and often shows one's intelligence mixed with humor. Then, mostly, wit has more of a staying power. As Aristotle said, "Wit is educated insolence." That, I guess makes wise-cracking just a streetwise loser, in comparison. Yet, Voltaire said, "A witty saying proves nothing." True, it proves nothing, but it doesn't bite like a wise-cracking quick utterance or insult, either. |
 HAPPY 25th, WdC!  Entries for September 1 and August 31 Prompt: Celebrations "Celebrate the success of others. High tide floats all ships." Susan Elizabeth Phillips Write about this quote and/or what Writing.com's Birthday celebration means to you. ------ Today, WdC is 25 years old , in (I think) SMS's words, "a full quarter of a century of writing, reading, creativity, and community." So true! How would I have known WdC would last for so long, with me in tow, for 25 years! I had no idea this would happen when I registered here 24 plus years ago, using a link a friend had sent in an email. If this isn't an occasion to celebrate, I don't know what is! As to the quote, to celebrate someone else's win, it is good to be genuinely enthusiastic, express admiration with a verbal "well done," and share in their joy by listening attentively to their experience. Maybe, one can also organize a social gathering, give a thoughtful gift, or plan a surprise party to acknowledge this success. Focusing on accomplishments helps us to live in a positive culture where success is contagious and can inspire motivation in everyone. I think WdC has encouraged us for 25 years with more waiting on the horizon. Will I be around in that horizon? I hope so, as long as the breath in me lasts. If it doesn't, then I hope WdC will stay forever being a home to all the lovers of word arts. ================= Prompt: "This is my invariable advice to people: Learn how to cook—try new recipes, learn from your mistakes, be fearless and above all have fun." Julia Child Write about this prompt, about how good you are in the kitchen and if Julia Child is talking only about kitchens? ==== I cook for myself and I have cooked for my family, almost non-stop. I don't do French cooking, sorry Julia!. I like Italian better. And even better is the kind of cooking I invented for myself, which takes a tiny bit from all the cuisines I was introduced to. My late husband and I, when we went out to eat, we chose restaurants on the water or those with some kind of an ambiance. We never went out for the sake of any food. As for Julia Child, I don't think she was only talking about food, as she said, "learn from your mistakes, be fearless and above all have fun." These words can apply to many situations and above all to life itself. Anyhow, being fearless doesn't mean feeling no fear. It means acting in the presence of fear without allowing it to paralyze one, which often involves acknowledging fear, understanding its source, and taking small, consistent steps to manage it, rather than eliminating it entirely. Real fearlessness is a balance between self-awareness and constructive action. Then, learning from mistakes is a good advice in any situation. Most of the troubles in this world happen because people or nations haven't learned from their past mistakes. As to her advice of "have fun," however, how in the world one can have fun, if that person only thinks of having fun in any situation. If I insistently thought "I'm going to have fun," I wouldn't have fun because I'd be checking myself if I am having fun or not, all the time, while supposedly having fun. Still, Julia Child was fun to watch as long as she and her show lasted. |
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