"Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen." -Leonardo da Vinci
In a scale of one to ten, today can be an eight. I discovered the wonders of what you call digital technology (more on that post later on), crossed out a lot of items on my work to-do list, cooked a hearty dinner and the highlight of it all, discovered again the wonderful world of poetry through a book given by a friend (thanks Gay!). The book is by Lang Leav named Love & Misadventure.
You will know it is a good book when at the first few pages it could capture your attention. And indeed, this book did not only lure me, it inspired me to go back to my original roots in writing -- poetry.
Yes, I started my venture into the literary world by writing poems. As the years went by, poetry seemed melodramatic and too romantic to be injected in the real world. I can imagine some people telling me that poems are too childish, teeny-boppity. Poems and my daydreams : my delusional gateway to Neverland.
But now, as I browse the book and its pages, I feel a sense of elation. I should never give up on my passion. Who cares if anyone actually reads it? Who cares if noone can relate to it. I am just painting my reality in words, for me -- by me. It does not matter if these things I write are not appreciated by someone else. The words in my heart is my own painting -- a painting of my life. For me. By me. And at the end of the day, it makes me happy.
Word
I have lost all my words for you
Some thousands of seconds ago;
When I have begun moving on,
You started to sing a diff'rent song.
How am I supposed to react
When you keep hiding under that mask;
Just say one word, just one, indeed-
Stay or go, that is all I need.
xx,
Corporate Junkie
