Where Did All the Creatives Go?
When life gets in the way
A place not too long ago where authors and painters sketched or wrote detailed outlines of daily occurrences, broken cheesesteak flipped upside down. Like Houdini, vanishing for a moment, eternally, not quite sure where poets fading memories rest their heads.
A barricade, writer’s block, lives naturally calling us away, attached not to expectations but being in the flow. Yes, life’s natural ebbs and flow, collectively, singularly, allowing universal play-calling, musical selections, life’s greatest soundtrack releasing Syncrosensational momentous tracks.
Returning from darkest hours, nights day unfolding songs of misery, puff and pass dealer’s choice, personal preference Agave blues. Present-day, awakened minds unprecedented happenstance basic needs advancement upon cosmic lettered in Midas’ gold.
Breathe in, breathe out, yesterday retiring its favorite tune. Present-day singing for the ages, retro-fitting an ever-expanding reality — past, present, future — triune Gods self-internal knowing, back in black, charging both ways future’s uncertainties.
Balancing life’s mysteries, finding peace in not knowing, we are edging out chapters one and two. Replacing whole story-lines, songs unwritten, spoken truths not from lips but hearts verbal cues, vibrational pull gravitational transitions like pulling a rabbit out of the hat.
Lists overwhelming presence, counterfeiting laughter, getting shit done, working down to the bones. Completed steps PiYo vinyasa flow, centering existential prowess at the galactic core of everything.
Stepping into the Canvas with two steps, merengue, and salsas with a flare, no longer keeping time and certainly not the score. Uncharted or here before, severing time-space resolution, allowing for collective kaleidoscopes stained-glass approaching thoughts infusing self-realizing ways.
~Ani Po
At first I was going to respond to a prompt before life got in the way of writing, but then another presented while searching the archives for previous. Staying true to my own fashion, fusing past, present and future, I chose to tie them both together. Thank you J.D. Harms for the prompts!
The first prompt inspired the idea of writing about personal observations of writers falling off the grid for reasons unknown.
The second prompt inviting creative word-spin of sorts. Syncrosensational was a word that gave birth during a talking circle. One of the participants was discussing moments that made her feel good. As she stammered on the wording, she stumbled between synchronicity and sensational. Stopping her mid-sentence, I asked her to repeat what she just said and if she had heard the birth of syncrosensational.
