Grasping My Creativity

Nothing drains at my soul and inner optimism like NOT writing. Years ago I took a hiatus when life was just too heavy and I was so engrossed I could not see beyond the daily grind. During that time I rarely wrote for myself, save for the occasional journal rant, and even then, it wasn’t enough. When I finally got back to myself to write again, for me, I could feel the well of emotions and thoughts that I had kept prisoner in my mind screaming for escape.

And so I wrote and created and dreamt and felt the surge in my abdomen as I realized I had put off my creative life and was desperate to get it back.

Writing poems, essays and journaling, along with coming up with larger, grander ideas (books) is what makes my soul soar. I created this blog and a theme and to date I am still WAY behind on where this could be yet I refrain from chastising. Life is a multitude of experiences.

I ended up getting another job, a creative one in which I have to dip into the font for work, and it makes it all the harder to dip into the font for myself. At the end of the day it’s dry. So why not try getting up early for it? Not being a morning person is no excuse. I shall become on, immediately!

In honor of those of us who write and truly know the agony of staring at a blank page/screen, and know the struggle with balancing the need to connect to our creativity and earn a living – I give you this poem.

Mind full of thoughts, flows in every corner, searching, seeking

Wondering if the fingers can convey what’s captured inside.

Keyboard strokes, pen scribbles – out of my mind and onto the page.

Where have you been, my friend, my confidant, my most intimate partner?

How I’ve missed the opportunity to commune with you,

How it pains me when I neglect you…forgive me.

It is through the words and my hands and the rumblings in my brain

That true agony and bliss combine to make something beautiful.

Art, through words, is my drug of choice – and how I wish to create beautiful images

With paint or pen or some other medium, but alas, the words are my art form.

I respect the ability to communicate telepathically with the world, my thoughts

My dreams, my imagination, through a character, a tale or even just the simple truth.

This is my pen, this is my keyboard, this is my mind, this is my heart and soul

To write, to be a writer, to own and express and command my creativity.

Writing sets me free and so I shall be with me…writing for the pleasure and the pain

And through that I can know myself and truly know others.

Creativity I reclaim you, even if done a million times over, I reclaim and celebrate you.

Please stick with Woman Sees World – she is a work in progress with much to offer. Enjoy and thank you for reading.


I see Them. I see You. I see Me. Woman Sees World.

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