My Prolificness

I believe there is a prolificness inside each and every one of us. A creative energy that if accessed, never stops running. A gushing of sorts, powerful, on tap and on demand, just like that - the waters of a river.

For years, today still, I’ve let “my prolificness” be held back by some dam manufactured somewhere way back in my past. So long ago, I can hardly remember. The thing about dams is that they perpetuate and build upon themselves, like age - old silt accumulating at the bottom of a reservoir. Creative dams - blocks - come in an array of forms: judgement, shame, trauma, embarrassment, comparison, perceived limitations of what is possible, whatever… you name it. My dams were continually reinforced and perpetuated by a societal hum drum disguised as “advice” of which my younger ears eagerly listened. I did not know yet, that the creative life was the only one worth living.

You see, I believe we were all born flowing into this universe that is, until some dam came along, in whatever form… and stopped or slowed us down. But that effortless flowing, the one in which accompanied us so beautifully into the world, can be brought back to life. As I’ve always said, something lost only waits to be found again. The prolificness of which I write, resides in us all along and is most likely just pent up. All we need to do is blow that dam thing down.

Most creative dams - or blocks - are manufactured with the the aim of protecting ourselves from a prolific creative existence. You see, “this world,” the one in which we live, was not made for us and advocates for a lifeless one - a life that is - in which, creativity is repressed from our earliest moments on this planet. The girl who loves to sing is told she has “no chance of making it.” The boy who lives to write is asked “what is the point?” The adult who loves to paint thwarts their artistic impulse because “water colours are for children.”

It is true that “this world” is filled with a bunch of damed creatives. It is the way of the world and perhaps always has been to shut them down or block them up. I say, “no longer.” Let the river inside you run wild. Let the obstacles to your water fall away. Finally, let your self run, wild, uninhibited and free. Flowing and breathing effortlessly into the work that deep down only you know you were born to do, as if you just arrived, here. This life was not supposed to be so hard. It can be fluid and flowing and prolific, but you and only you, can let your life live. Giving it the chance to run wild and free.

- Your Prolificness

Book Shelves

In my house, 

There is a book shelf, 

Full of, 

All the books, 

I most love, 

Whose pages, 

Have filled me, 

With so much.

- Book Shelves


On Constraints

There is no need,

To force the door,

When it will open,

Nearly,

On it’s own accord.

The key lies in,

Finding the piece,

That effortlessly,

Opens the door,

One has been attempting,

To force ajar,

All of this time.

- On Constraints

The Chrysalis

Do not fight the feeling, 

Of being, 

Absolutely encapsulated,

By something,

Find it.

Whatever it is, 

That you cannot, 

Seem to “not do.” 

And follow that shit,

As far as you can, 

Into whatever land, 

It leads.

- The Chrysalis


Beginners Mind All The Time

“To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower.” - William Blake

What if, what you thought you knew all along, no longer held solid ground? What if all you had ever been told or thought to be true was false? What then would you do?

Surely then, you would open yourself up and begin living without the slightest bit of judgment. “How stupid I was!” you may think to yourself. Having all this while, been living with your eyes closed, thinking that you could see anything - even the slightest bit - clearly in this life.

Surely, you would return to the world, grounded, as the fresh faced babe by which you came. Amazed by even the most mundane. What a wonderment that would be! Even the most tedious of things would become exciting. Amazement would forever flood every corner of your world and fill every experience you ever had. Perhaps for the first time, you would notice and see clearly the back of your hands. How beautiful they are! The sudden fascination that these things were available to you all along and on demand. With every experience new and everything now a beautiful beginning, you would not want or need anything again. You would have everything and be rich beyond imagination. Access to life’s main energy source, flow would be on tap.

Nothing, in fact, would ever be boring, difficult or mundane again. Such concepts, would no longer even make sense to you. Amazed and full of the never ending infinite wonder and gratitude for the World. Seeing possibility and opportunity everywhere that you once only looked.

- Beginners Mind All The Time

A PLACE FOR @LL

The church wall,

Outside,

Said, 

“A PLACE FOR @LL”

Which,

Sounded nice,

Until I got, 

Inside it’s halls,

And saw,

The lie.  


Because @LL, 

Had already, 

Been categorised,

The righteous few classified,

By some old white guys, 

Donning bathrobes,

Pretending to know, 

What some prophets wrote, 

A really really,

Long time ago… 

That’s when,

I knowed,

@LL,

Was a bunch of bull.

- A PLACE FOR @LL

Looking Good Vs. Learning

From all of my years on earth,

This is what have learned.

There are,

Those,

Whose only interest,

Is looking good.

And then,

There are,

Others,

Devoted solely to learning.

You see,

Learning is dirty.

But the peculiar thing is,

The learners always seem,

To come out,

Looking best in the end.

Having toiled,

The entirety of their lives,

Somewhere backstage

Behind the scenes,

Awaiting their BIG moment,

On screen.

- Looking Good vs. Learning

LET ME ASK YOU A QUESTION

Let me ask you a question,

How is it you intend,

On beating me,

If you haven’t any idea,

Which game I am playing?

Competition,

Comparison,

Such notions,

Are of no interest to me.

They are disgusting,

Comparison is an individual’s,

Death wish.

The creative life,

Has been and will be,

The only life,

Ever worth living.

The birds sing for no one.

I repeat,

No one.

There is only one,

Game worth playing,

One race,

Worth racing,

Finishing somewhere in the middle,

Of a long and lonely road,

With no winners,

Accolades or awards.

- The Infinite Game

- On The Flood & Tipping Points

I wrote and wrote and wrote, 

And for the longest time, 

If felt as if, 

No one noticed, 

Until one day, 

Low and behold, 

Before you know,

It all started flowing, 

Raindrops,

Becoming, 

Something far beyond, 

Their tiny selves.

- On The Flood & Tipping Points


Excerpt from A River Runs

There is,

No correct method,

No East,

No West,

The river knows,

One direction,

None,

No looking back,

No looking ahead,

Flowing past,

All obstacles,

In its path.

- Excerpt from A River Runs

He asked & She replied

He asked her,

“Who do you want to be,

When you grow up?”

She replied.

“I have no idea, 

But I can tell you,

Exactly,

Who I do not,

Want to,

Be like.”

- He asked & She replied


could I borrow a pen, PleaSe?

In a world where words,

Were all I had,

I wrote on any canvas,

I could get my hands on,

Egg - white walls,

Coffee stained napkins,

Blank grey,

Columns in newspapers,

With temporarily stolen,

Pens, pencils, sometimes crayons,

From counters of gas stations,

And apron pockets of kind cafe waitresses.

- Could I borrow a pen, please?

The only god I’ve ever known 

The only god I’ve ever known, 

Lives on the water and in the woods,

Not in the walls of some cathedral hall.

God, the universe, one,

Whatever, you want to call it,

Created a sanctuary named nature,

And the best way to worship,

Has been and always will be, 

Going for a long walk.

Alone,

Or perhaps with someone,

You love very much,

Through the forest,

In the field, 

Or alongside the water.

- “If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.” - Mary Oliver

Itty - Bitty Little Things

Truly, 

It is, 

The itty - bitty things, 

That when,

All said and done,

Make the BIG difference, 

That is, 

Because, 

There has been, 

And only ever will be, 

Itty - bitty, 

Tiny, 

Magnificent, 

Little things. 

- Building blocks, fishing knots, and a smile, perhaps

The One That Got Away

I remember the losses,

Way more than the wins. 

I wonder why that is?

In football,

Fishing too. 

Perhaps it’s the pain,

That tags along with “what if?”

- The One That Got Away

Peppermint Gum: Stick To The Task

Don’t get distracted.

Stick to the task,

Like age old gum, 

Some dumb teenager,

Chewed up,

Spit out,

And tacked to the bottom of a school desk,

That years after,

Still reeks of peppermint on my fingertips,

Have you smelt that… 

Have you felt that… 

Absolutely despicable experience?

Nevertheless,

Stick to the task,

Just like that.

Age old,

Peppermint fucking gum,

That even now,

The janitor needs,

A flathead screwdriver,

To pry off. 

- Peppermint Gum: Stick To The Task


Bird Song

And then

All of the noise

Was gone


And for once

I could hear

The bird song

Had they been

Singing all along?

- Bird Song