Thursday, January 28, 2010


These visual prompts from ReadWritePoem continually work me. I don't know how each one is just the right balm for me... usually they look like just the right torture, actually - but when I meet the prompt and allow it to make its presence known... I tend to be grateful for what appears.

This poem was like stitching a quilt together. I gathered memories and words from the past... sought out a poem I wrote when this incident happened - one too painful to remember... and found some journaling from a month or so ago and brewed the pieces together and here you have it.
(Visual Prompt Image from Sepultre
at Flickr)

A Crooked "Handle-with-care"
Sign - Hand painted in
purple, girly-lettering
Hangs across her throat


much like the invisible
to some fourth leg of
her chair: if he
had only reached with his
heart laced fingers
instead of the intellect
of a shattered other
He would have felt it


There, right there
In the space between
his quoted "bullshit"
declaration and her
imploding eyebrows
and belly, he would have
felt that leg, piercing
through her core and


He would have known that
in one single moment the
breath left their love
behind in its scent, not
its form: The Coyote smelled it,
the howl crying it into
the darkness


Shadows, alone in mere traces of
for the now absent fourth
leg of their connection

There was nothing left
to teeter upon


Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Vision Board - Collage, Art, Writing all Whipped Up

I am working on Day 4 of 21 in The Whole Self's Creative Divine created by my friend, Nicola Warwick.

I am taking many more than 21 days! Oh, well. The 21 days started the day Mercury Retrograde ended and I am still shaking it off, apparently.

Today our task was to create a vision board.

How I am working this 21 Day Project is to read the prompt and let it ruminate for a bit before plunging into the task which accompanies each day.

Today, it is very image rich with fewer words, although there are plentiful a-ha's brewing... from the poetry I am blossoming to my theme and intention for the year - Tangible Soul - to my family and my business... this vision board is rocking me.

Here is some of the process for you to see, visually.

The process begins with cutting and for me, writing, collecting, and listening to the intuitive call to choose, to cut, to place and glue. I almost always start with writing. Not a surprise, I am thinking...

SP 27/365 - From my chin - 365X3

For Creative Divine 21 Days

The left hand side of the journal - vision board. Can you see some famous faces, sans hair, bodies, etc?

They inspire me - and are reminding me of utilizing my senses to bring tangible soul to... tangibility. I also had an a-ha which I will relate to the music in this collage and the photo of Charles Bukowski (do you see him?)

Music is an intangible, when experienced... primarily.

And it creates an intangible which often brings things tangible. People create to music, people relate to music, people are inspired and motivated by music... yet it floats through the ethers.

It is the physical human making an intangible and then remixing or recirculating with the tangible. Still need to journal more on that - this is a PROCESS post after all.

This is the right hand side of the collage.

What strikes you about it?

For Creative Divine 21 Days

I also gleaned from some of my folders and drawers of unused stuff which included some photos of me and my children. The childhood Julie with the dirty knees is a photo I especially love.

Tangible Soul.

Love that, love what this Vision Board is bringing out so far.

How Three Simple Words Impact, Inspire and Ignite

Three word Wednesday: beacon, grieve, kindred.

These three words made me angry.

It felt like the 3WW had been poking around in my carefully guarded lingerie drawer, digging for fertile secrets amidst the not-well-worn silky blacks and lacy pinks.

How long ago was it I sat in a support group for parents who had lost babies and I found the women who were still grieving many years later pitiful, as a group. "I won't be like that" I sneered on the inside while my face wore a compassionate sorrowful mask.

I have become one of them and today, with this prompt, it pisses me off.

So I wrote a haiku.

Her words, a beacon

"You don't have to grieve alone"

Kindred, at long last....

Monday, January 25, 2010

Remind Me Why I Set Certain Goals, Please?

"Write in recollection and amazement for yourself."

Jack Kerouac

Four years ago I would have thought I had fallen into a huge vat of self-indulgence-syrup if you had told me I would be beginning not my first, not my second but my third year of taking daily self portraits. I can hear my self-righteous indignation, "Come on, look at yourself, you are nothing special... you keep getting older, you never lose that weight you think about losing - why on Earth would you choose you to be a subject of anything looking remotely artistic?"

I don't even like looking at photos of myself. Looking at images of me staring back makes me nervous. I don't like doing it.

I can hear you now, muttering, "That makes no sense." A caveat in response to you - I never claim to make sense, by the way.

I knew when I started down this self-portrait road that devotion to my image would somehow help me grow. It has.

When I look at my first attempts at Flickr, I see one person.

When I look at my second, half-hearted and incomplete attempts, I see another person.

And in this third set, which I call "365X3" I see the me I am now: the me I am most comfortable with and whom I think is by far the most multi-faceted and interesting.

Then I think about my upcoming theater project. What was I thinking, exactly? I could not have possibly come up with something more different than "First Kisses", the show I am directing right now which opens in February.

Then I remember, "Oh, yes. Stretch as an artist. Don't be limited by societal standards."

And then there was that pesky, Goal Number 101 for 2010. Here's what I wrote:

101. Stretch cultural view of beauty in older and/or “imperfect” women… taking Dove’s campaign to the grassroots.

I prepared for read through and was nervous beyond words, nervous. Those pesky rambling words were at it again: "Who did I think I was, Colette?"

I knew what the script contained. Besides stretching creatively, I was going to experience several of my friends in different ways.

I should be at least somewhat used to this.

After all, I am known for being comfortable with who I am, in all stages and places and showing up... as a playful and "hippie-ish" person.


But when I show up as a hippie-ish person at the hot springs or with a photographer in Echo Park, I am creating solely for me.


I am not thinking "What will people think? Will this be horrid for my collaborators? Will they want to run, screaming, pushing me off the cliff labeled " this project?"

I need to return to my poetry. Curvy Truth, for example, which I wrote in response to these photos and others, taken shortly before a beloved friend's birthday. I had them taken by a complete stranger who was willing to create "ethereal, gritty" photos with me.

I never considered myself the least bit modelesque, but this was my body and I was creating this, for me. So that I could write, primarily.

The poem This is My Body, performed this Summer at Fishlips in the event Two Hours Inside was very well received and could only have been written after all this exploration I have done.

I just didn't ever realize an opportunity like this would come up.

Reminds me of what happens when goal-setting meets divinity - situations that seem completely remote wait, restlessly, for you to step into them, and when you do, everyone is rewarded in ways that reach beyond what you might know when you start.

Dreaming me from 2006

I think I will hold onto that thought, and remember this moment perched on a rock at Remington.

Lessons from the Porch Desk: The Power Cords Teach Us

Before today, when I looked in my photo frame and saw them taking up space in what I was attempting to photograph, I grimaced. "They are ruining my shot!" I lamented. "Why are they still there? New neighborhoods don't have power lines running through their skies, cluttering up the view"....

This morning, something shifted as I stepped through the door at sunrise to take my daily photo.

25/365: January 25, 2010 - Powercords at Sunrise

The power lines were still there, hovering in the horizon of the shot I used to think I wanted. Today, I saw the power lines as perfect. Instead of wishing them away, I focused upon them. I saw their beauty, their symmetry. I saw how they sliced through the sky, separating colors as if they were put in exaclty that spot divinely, like the towering linden tree or the low-to-the ground dandelions.

I sat at my porch desk and wrote along the blue lines in my notebook:

24/365 - January 24, 2010 - Writing on the Porch - 365X3

"What power do those lines carry on their metal corded backs?

"Is it the zap of electricity bringing light to Robert's calculus problem or Sally's aquarium as she looks in shocked disbelief that her favorite fish, Nemo, needs to be buried. Or, do those cords carry the voices of Uncle Barry pontificating or Katie hearing the bad news about Tim?

"Don't voices leap from tower to tower, instead?

"They don't need power lines anymore, I don't think, just like I don't need to have the strength to dangle upside down, hanging from my bent knees on the metal cord of the Carteret Park jungle gym, my ponytails grazing the sandy playground floor."

I looked up, wondering what notivated the Carteret Park, hanging-from-knees image, wondered why it popped up.

"When did these things change?"

I know I turned away at some point, stopped noticing the sunrise, stopped noticing the inexplicably poignant blue of the sky before many have seen it yet, so fresh and optimistic, my breath slows and my eye lids hold the tears which arise without warning. I turned again to see new beginnings and realized in that moment, the poignant blue sky matched the poignant blue in my eyes and my perspective.

I looked up and smiled into the ever-changing morning sky, grateful I took the time to watch it. Grateful I sat in the audience of the power lines, of memory, of the sunrise - an everyday miracle.

And Now You: Be open to everyday miracles today, waiting for your attention, your awareness, your gentle awakening.

What do you see out your window?

Give it the space to astonish you.

One Word - January 25, 2009 - YOGA

My one minute timed writing today went like this:


I wish I spent more time learning yoga. doing yoga. practicing yoga. Allowing myself to stretch and move, gracefully, moving in and out and around rather than sitting here, typing into the keyboard I should be sitting serenely, a single sunflower by my side, gazing and feeling my muscles, lengthier, surrendering.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Poetic Meanderings

I have been haphazardly and somewhat half-assedly responding to poetry prompts this week.

I have surged past cranky and may soon land in the sea of diabolical.

My poem for "Three Word Wednesday"

My excuse for a poem in Get Your Poem On #110, ReadWritePoem.Org

Monday, January 18, 2010

Weekly Check in with Creative Every Day

It has been an odd week but yesterday alone packed in enough creativity to stir my soul several times over.

I wrote a synopsis on Julie Unplugged.

Please check it out here

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Duh Duh Duh Duh

My contribution to this week's GET
may be found on my main poetry page:

Poetry from Julie Jordan Scott.

Thank you for reading!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

So Much Creativity - Oh, for more focused time!

My inspiration has been drawn from many sources lately - my Project365 (I am doing three of them!), Three Word Wednesdays, Creative Every Day, ReadWritePoem, and my brand new friends from One Word.

While I love it, I also am aware of my time limitations given the book projects and creative endeavors I am seeking to complete.

My challenge now? Completion while weaving in these creative bursts as well.

Please read some of the posts at JulieUnplugged to see what I mean.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Get Your Poem On #108

Thursday has become, for me, "Get Your Poem On" day...

Which was, in fact, the genesis of this blog.

Here is the link to today's poem:

"Note to Soul"

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Apparently I am meant to write poetry today

I went to bed last night with three poems battling it out in my head.

I don't mind, most of the time, though this morning when a third word warrior (what is the female version of warrior, is there one?) appeared, I almost scoffed...

Until I wrote.

You may read my First Ever Three Word Wednesday Poem on my Poetry from Julie Jordan Scott blog.... by clicking here.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

I have been a busy little creative bee

And most of my creative play can be found on my Julie Unplugged Blog, which is housed here - at typepad.

I created this blog for content and even more for connection.

I value connecting with you... so I hope you will wander over to typepad and/or subscribe to my ezine or follow me on twitter. So many ways to stay connected... and my wish for 2010 is to be connected with more like-souled people...

2010 has been phenomenal so far. The well mannered me says "Don't brag about your Best Supporting Actress Award and the party and the trip to San Francisco and all those comments on your poems. Cut that out..." but I trust you have shown up here because you want to be inspired and know I am just an EverydayJulie like you are an EveryDayYou.

So glad you found me and are reading.