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Wreck This Journal: Freedom
When I was in elementary school, I was scolded quite a bit because I wouldn’t follow directions during lessons on handwriting. It’s not that I was a defiant child, but rather a left-handed one that...
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Wreck This Journal: Go Wild!
In my first Wreck This Journal post, (Letting Go), I promised to explain the rip in the binding. In the original image of my journal, there is a rather large tear at the bottom of the spine. Never in...
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Wreck This Journal: Just Write!
Writers may have a whole story mapped out, right down the ending, but they’ll stare at a blinking cursor for an hour trying to figure out the first word. Or halfway through, the fear of not being good...
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Coloring Isn’t Just For Kids
While paging through my Wreck This Journal, I came across the “Test Page” where there are instructions to use the space to test out crayons, paints, and other art supplies. The test page reminded me of...
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Memorial Day Without Borders
Memorial Day is a day where we all pause and remember those who have fought for their country. It’s the moment where regardless of where we stand in our opinions of war, gratitude and reverence are...
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Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry
Ai Wiewei first made a blip on my radar during the awe inspiring opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, but he captured my spirit with his inspiring art installations. Back in March, I...
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Scribble Diary: Week 4
This week’s Scribble Diary page, has me tracking background noise and playing with the idea of saying something important. With a month of pages completed, I can honestly say my perspective has...
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Entanglement
Thicket’s trap, twists of heart Thorns of yore, tempered path Weave beyond, wicked gates Willing souls wander free - – - A scene from the Northwoods of Wisconsin Photo and words: c.b.w. 2013 - – -...
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Contemplation
Where to end . . . Do we protect the past? Conserve what was in order to understand what is? Molded by ancient hands, crafted with skill and powered by expression. Painted with both imagination and...
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Liberation
What does the present owe to the past? A few good stories or wisdom passed down. In return, relics collect dust and lead an empty existence. Archaic clay and pigment hold the past by a thread. Anxious...
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Horizon
Give me breath, golden thread Stitch this life, mend all strife Rolling hills, heart be still Untouched blue, freedom’s hue Lady’s View, Ring of Kerry, Ireland Photo by: c.b.w. 2009 - – - Special...
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Turn
Counting off, one by one Here we sit, neat in rows All the same, empty stares Wooden souls, polished smiles Held by rules, stuck in place Prison cells left unlocked In plain view, rebels stir Sideways...
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Free
snarled traffic pigeons peck the ground free to fly – – – Photo: Bedford Square, London, c.b.w. 2011 Words: senryu, c.b.w. 2017Filed under: Poetry, Travel, Writing
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