31.12.15

I’ve not written over the holidays,  I find it tricky to type on the tablet and I’ve been lacking motivation.  I feel as though I am in limbo, waiting for a new start to come, when in reality, every next living moment is a new start. Yet still I sit, watching that I have seen before,  scrolling through posts, constant scrolling, pointless scrolling.

Occasionally I make notes, my notes are always plans, planning ahead for a moment that does not exist.  I have had time to rest, time to think. I have solitude on New Years Eve, with no desire to go anywhere,  do anything,  see anyone.  Content in my own company,  once again looking ahead.

2015 has been very kind to me,  I have enjoyed many an adventure,  made new friends,  rediscovering old friends and experienced some astounding events.

Yet all this has come at the price of losing myself, by that, I mean I gave up who I was to become true to myself.  I am reminded of a Lao Tzu quote: “When you let go of what you are, you become what you might be.” I never used to understand this, thought it was a load of happy clappy pretty shit, poetic words with a riddle.

I’m not yet ready to put into words how my life has changed, I can not express what is in my heart and haunts my thoughts. It’s not ready to be shared, not even by my own hand in my off line journals. I’m not sure it ever will be expressed,  or even if it really needs to be?

I am different,  yet I am the same, for the old me created the foundations of who I am now, without her, her past and her triumphs and disasters,  I could not be who I am now.

Tomorrow is a New Year, a new day and just another Friday. I shall blog better once I’m back to work, where I can type easier, share more of my writings and a little of myself.

Until then my darlings, have a most gorgeous New Year… All the very best…

Anne Harrison 31.12.15

 

Poetry

Something I always HATED… Have you read some?!? Gez!! I thought my brain would explode as I was forced to endure several classes of poetry, baffled by terminology, confused by rhyme and structure, bewildered by stances and verse. I can honestly say that I was lost, deep within a midfield of words… I knew nothing!!

So, being of a masochistic literacy nature, I decided to focus on poetry for my third assignment. I realise I have not shared with you yet, my adventures into assignment writing, essay torture and agonising reviews… But I had said I was not following any order in this blog, so I will skip back to earlier assignment at a future date. Today we are exploring my pathetic attempts at poetry.

It might appear bizarre that I chose to write poetry for an assignment, but I had already challenged myself by writing in a different genre (Romantic Tragedy) for my second assignment, I could quite easily revert to my favorite genre (Fantasy) again, to stay safely in my comfort zone, stick to characters and stories I know so well in my mind. I absolutely hated the Romantic Tragedy, I still cant bring myself to read the fucking thing, but I got a half decent grade for pushing myself into unknown literacy avenues. Yes, I will share this story with you, one day, for shits and giggles.

I’m not even going to share with you my poetry assignment, at the moment, maybe later… What I did want to share with you is a PDF I put together of the entire process of writing the assignment. From my very first draft, including so many notes, scribbles, alterations, editing and pretty pictures. This is the whole development of my work and for some obscure reason I am deliciously proud of this document. I love to see how it transformed and evolved into something magical, along the way I fell in love with poetry, I became passionate about the genre, I absorbed myself in the weird and remarkable and to this day that love still remains.

By forcing myself into a new direction, by challenging myself, pushing my horizons and destroying my writing comfort zone, I created an assignment which was rewarded with a distinction!

For now, I attach the progression and  Development of Portfolio for I believe this exposes to you just how much I fell in love with poetry upon my literacy journey.

Anne Harrison 17.12.15

 

 

Free Writing

Lets have some fun today. I’m going to share with you something so raw, it’s painful to read. Free Writing is the art of finding a set time slot and just writing anything that pours into your thoughts during those few minuets.

I like this approach to story writing, its pure, straight from the mind to paper (or screen) no editing, no fussing or agonising over every single tiny weeny fucking detail. Spelling is shite, handwriting astonishingly disgraceful, I use ampersands in my notes and parts are even scribbled out.

I love writing like this, it strips away the perfection that writers strive for, removes the brain ache over punctuation and just exposes a simple introduction to a half arsed story.

to kill a killer

***

Anne Harrison 16.12.15

I Want

I found this old list this morning, written back in September I think?
I’m sharing it upon my blog, because it is a helpful reminder, it’s good to see that I have embraced some of these ‘wants’ already, others I need to start or return too…
I also would like to add to this list: to learn some Japanese before March!

I refuse to believe it’s narcissistic to expose these desires, when these are positive aspects and achievable goals. I’m learning to love myself after years of darkness and years of self loathing.  I’m loving life and finally kicked the black dog in the maw for good (ish) Sometimes he raises his ugly head, tries to nip me in the ankles, bring me crashing down again…
But this list! These wants! They drive me forward, so I can out run that bastard!!
These are not unrealistic goals,  they are mindful self care.

Something I have denied myself for so long, for I believed I was not worthy, this is the poison of the black dog, dripping lies into your mind. Everyone is worthy!!!
I make lists, change lists, keep lists… they are focus, wants, dreams, desires…
Not material possessions, but a reminder,  to see how far I have travelled so far and how far I have yet to go…

After a couple of days feeling like shit, after allowing two people to upset me (and I did allow this, I’m quite sure they’re blissfully unaware of my hurt), it was good to find this list…
It proves that life is not always perfect,  you can not be happy all the time, people will get you down…. just don’t stay down!! Please  xx

Make your own lists, remember you are worthy,  create your own goals and a life you want to achieve around these goals.

Anne Harrison. 12.12.15

***

Yes I’m using the word ‘want’ because I’m using determination.
‘I would like’ although polite, relates more to material desires than personal motivation.
So, I want:
5 mornings a week with my kettlebells
Don’t be afraid to learn new moves
To learn yoga
To get myself trim, not thin, not skinny, trim…
To achieve my pole goal and continue with weekly classes
New sports bra so I can skip!
I want to lean about waist training.
I want to look good and confident in a corset
To remember tai chi and chi knug daily
To remember to care for my skin, hands and feet especially
To drink more water, stay hydrated.
To eat better, cleaner, wiser.
To spend less money and work more on hobbies.
To clear my mind of clutter, especially old hang ups!
Read more, write more!
Rest more, without guilt!
Cycle, save, travel and decorate 🙂
And learn to play the violin xx
These are my goals for my life, I have no excuses, I am responsible for my own actions and though time is currently so filled, there is no reason not to plan ahead.
Also, remember a little magic goes a long way…
There is so much more I want to add to this list, so much more I want to do in my life, with my life. So, I can always add to this list. Be more wild and amazingly free!

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#NotInMyName

Recent events have inspired the use of the #NotInMyName.

Indeed I have noticed a staggering amount of negative posts through various social media platforms. It is impossible to ignore the hatred in the world when the media fixates on doom and gloom until we become a nation of fear living in melancholy.  But there is enough self opinionated bloggers out there, sofa dwelling political experts who rant on the internet and point fingers…

I am not writing to express my opinion, I am not sharing my views because I do not feel the need too.

Yesterday I wrote that I felt like shit. Yesterday I wrote that someone had upset me, by the end of the day, two people had upset me and I felt wretched. Uninspired, gloomy my fragile motivation had fled, frightened away by physical pain and venomous words.

However as today has developed, the sun has chased away the drizzle, pain has subsided and I found the most stunning link (again) which made me realise just how much beauty there is in the world, underneath all the news wrapped up in lies. I still feel a little insecure but the brief spell of negativity is lifting. A calm peace remains.

I am reminded of a piece of homework we were given in our first year, world building is an important part of fiction to create a believable story, even if the story is fantastical. In our assignment we were to write about the world as it is, yet remove just one element to explore the impact on society without this element. We were free to chose what we wanted to remove from the world, gravity, clothes, money… etc… How would life be different? I shall confess this story was a little inspired by Dogma.

Originally entitled ‘A World Without Me’, I could quite easily re-title this little tale #NotInMyName. Enjoy!

 

Anne Harrison. 11.12.15

***

A world without me.

I knew I had fucked up when the body count reached astronomical proportions. There were so many who had died pointlessly, so much death, torture, pain, hatred, destruction. That’s when I knew I had to start again, or do I?

Wouldn’t it be easier just to remove one fragment which caused so much distress and see how the world faired without such limitations?

So I created a mirror image of what already existed, it didn’t take as long as a week this time, as I already had the blueprint in my vault. I just made a simple subtle change in the programming then cut, copied and pasted the rest into a parallel dimension.

Content with my result, yet curious to see how this altered reality, I injected myself into society assuming a simple role in which to observe.

The first thing I noticed was the currency, as my first customer handed me a few dollars I noticed there was no longer a slogan adorned across the money in my name. Interesting, but hardly outstanding, these tiny bits of paper, which people put so much importance in, had always baffled me but I had choose to keep this feature. After all, I did require a wage for my job.

There was a television set in the main dining area, the news emblazoned images of war and destruction. I sighed to myself, mankind will always fight it would appear. Had I fucked up again? I pondered, yet the reported war was over territory, land, boarders, property. Not in my name!

Okay, so I wasn’t going to remove land! However, the wars were few and far between, the body count regrettable but minor in comparison.

It was on my lunch break, when I took a walk through the bustling streets of New York City when I started to notice more and more changes. For example, clothes and hair! Now this wouldn’t usually interest me, as I’ve always been a firm believer that people should wear what they like to be comfortable and confident in their appearance. However there were those, who in my name (whichever name they choose to call me by) had placed limitations upon self-expression, clothes, beards, long hair, short hair, ringlets, skull-caps, turbans, tattoos, nudity, burkas, hijabs, dog-collars, miters… The list was endless, what you could wear, what you couldn’t wear, what was banned, approved, encouraged. The contradictions were amusing yet sadly, even this minor personal choice had even lead to many deaths.

So to stroll through the busy streets and notice an absence of such garments was a welcome relief. People still followed fashion that was why I created creativity. People also expressed themselves against fashion in outrageous self-styled garments that was why I created creativity! I smiled, pleased with the diversity which existed without me.

As I unwrapped my bacon baguette I noticed a loving couple walking slowly through the park. Hand in hand they laughed and flirted, eyes shining towards each other. The tall young man in a sharp suit leaned close and placed a soft loving kiss upon his partner’s neatly trimmed beard. I smiled, my heart swelled with adoration. Love is such a beautiful sight to behold, it has no restrictions or limitations. I wonder why people had once developed predigests in my name? It appeared to me that mankind used me as an excuse to destroy each other for a multitude of reasons. Yet here, in this new realm, this perfect loving couple could walk freely, openly accepted, because I did not exist.

Absently wiping ketchup from my chin, I pondered over the humble bacon baguette I was enjoying. Diet had become another restriction I had noticed, did people really think I would judge them for their diet? Throughout time, I had been given many names, many forms, I had been male and female and neither. Faceless or even animal headed, I had devout followers, extreme to the point of self-suicide in my name, I had watched mankind destroy each other, to undermine women and oppress them under the excuse of an original sin.

Yet as I look around this new realm, I see women in suits alongside business men as their equals, not struggling, flourishing, I see stay-at-home dads collecting their children from a school where all races play and learn together, because these children are not brought up to judge another for being different. Indeed I notice a young girl in piggy tails dressed as an action-man and I smile to myself.

Opening a can of Coke to wash down my lunch I am painfully aware that governments and big corporations still have an impact and I absently wonder just how much I need to get rid of to make things perfect? How many versions of the world do I need to create? Would each one be vastly different with the removal of just one concept?

I look around this current reality and conclude that it doesn’t matter what I remove there will always be something which replaces it. However, taking myself out of the equation has developed a more peaceful world, with fewer wars and more acceptable diversity.

Naturally I expect to discover some negative issues with my absence, but there really is so much one can explore within an hour and my lunch break was fast drawing to a close and I needed to head back for my afternoon shift, I strolled and noticed the absence of Churches, Mosques, and Synagogues. I felt a little sadness as there was a loss there in such beauty. But it was a price I was prepared to pay currently to see how my children developed without the concept of soul or the fear of karma, an afterlife of Heaven or Hell? Remove all these fears, that I would judge and punish or reward your eternal soul dependent upon your actions, words or thoughts. Was in itself a former manmade myth, created to control and oppress others.

Here, I discovered, with the absence of understanding the soul, I found mankind to be far more creative, artistic and less destructive. I wondered why this would be as I replaced my apron and took up my position behind the counter.

It was not that people did not have Souls, of cause they had, their souls are the bright internal spark which connects them to me. They just had no name for it here, but the soul needed to shine and here it shone through freedom, expression art and love, sure the world will never be perfect, but neither am I.

I smiled content as I took my first order of the afternoon and asked; “Would you like fries with that?”

Church

PS: My Photography tooooooooooo…….. 🙂

Today

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Finding Beauty in a dull grey day today, beyond the workroom where the sky is a hazy fall of drizzle, dancing in swelling puddles.

Although I feel like shit, I know this is fleeting and will soon pass. Although people have upset me, I have not voiced my distress, for today is not a day for conflict. Yet it brings to light some reflective thoughts.

The lazy hazy drizzle which quenches the earth is soothing to watch with a sheet of glass between myself and the elements.

Rain can nurture life or bring about destruction – Just like words.

Therefore, some words are best kept as thoughts, unless you’re prepared to dance with the tempest.

Today I will be the sheet of glass.

***

Anne Harrison. 10.12.15

 

 

I Miss Writing

There are sometimes in your life when you feel like there are just not enough hours in the day. That you are thrown from one task to another and by the time you get the chance to sit down and relax, all motivation has flown, swallowed up on chores and passions are abandoned like dusty crypts, forgotten and forlorn.

Dreams change, goal posts are moved from one ambition to the next, excitement swells and grows as you grasp new adventures with fury. Throwing yourself headlong in yet another direction to explore.

Branches spread out before you as the path of life takes new twists and turns, leading you from one place to another. Passions open new doors and the extent of possibilities can feel all consuming and over whelming. Until your to-do list appears to feel longer than your life span.

Yet there are always chores, the mundane and the pots to do.

I adore writing, I am a compulsive note scribbler and frequently pour my thoughts onto paper, I find this clears my head and helps me focus through the fog of daily life. I never keep everything, what I keep finds its way into my colourful  journals and is promptly lost from the black hole in my head. Only to be rediscovered on some cosy Sunday afternoon curled up before my log burner, pouring through journal pages, delighting at happy memories and inspiring the muse.

The muse rests deep within my soul, like a lazy angel of light and dark dreams. It sleeps, brooding, awake it unleashes all the ideas it has been hording, bombarding my mind with awash of ideas and inspiration. I see my muse as male and want to call him, him. I believe he even has a face, the face of every character I’ve ever dreamed up.

He is not limited to works of fiction and acts of art. He is my life’s muse. You see, I used to think I knew exactly who I was and what I wanted to do, to learn, to focus on. Yet as I’ve grown up (finally) I have found myself a stranger to myself. As I have thrown off the dusty remains of an old life, do not think the old me has been neglected, for she is still deeply part of who I am. BUT she is not ALL I am, for I am learning to discover more about me, life, the world both within and surrounding me.

I am forever on a journey of discovery with my muse by my side, with old me as a solid foundation and an ever growing branching path before me.

I Miss Writing.

But I never cease writing.

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Anne Harrison. 10.12.15