On the Ledge

A Personal Blog

 

I had a dip, you might have noticed in some earlier thoughts I shared, mainly regarding losing my Mother and being reminded of this by the fact that my Parents Wedding Anniversary and Mothers Day being within three days of each other.

My Blog is my safe little corner of this cyber world, here I have always felt safe to express myself and write more than I could ever say in person and I write only a fraction of what I would like to say.

Having this space has given me the ability to work through my emotions and safely express myself, no one is forced to read my words and no one is obliged to reply, which places me in a comfortable situation. My life is interwoven with my ongoing ‘Not-so-short-short-story’ and I can find some measure of peace of mind.

A fellow Blogger recently sent me these precious words of wisdom:

So I started to write, and write I did… It took me three days to write the following notes and even though I know I am not an expert in such thingies, you need to understand that I wrote these words for me… I know that sounds selfish, yet at the same time, I am sharing them… Because maybe, only maybe, they just might resonate to someone else out there in cyberspace…

*Dedicated to all those who find themselves lingering on the ledge*

 

With Love,

Anne Harrison 30.03.17

The Creative Imposter

I am in love with the arts, my passion expands beyond writing,  I adore painting,  but I am no artist.  I try to take pretty photos, but I am no photographer.  I write possibly each day, but I know in my heart I shall never be published,  my art will never grace the walls of any gallery,  my photography will never be found in any magazine and my next project will probably amass to nothing either.  Basically, because it doesn’t matter…

… I crave not fame and fortune,  I can not adhere to the strict ‘rules of writing’ I use far too many words, I tell don’t show… Instead of show don’t tell… and I use far too many dots all dotted around the place in dot like chaos…

I write,  I draw, I paint, I snap photos because these are things I love to do and mediums I admire.  I attend talks by poets, who can stand before an audience and share their words beautifully,  I will travel the country and even abroad to visit museums and galleries to witness displays attend exhibitions of world famous artists and also find local artists hidden in pub attics in small side streets… falling in love with the colours and lines, the words, a dance… inspiration surrounds me, I find beauty in the mundane, a leaf in a puddle becomes a boat for captain ant and his band of merry pirates.

My love delves into music, though I can not play an instrument (yet) I love the world within movies, books, stage and screen,  comics, heroes,  villains, aliens, the macabre, the tortured souls trapped in pages of a dusty novel.  The unknown,  the supernatural,  the inner realms of sincere spirituality…

My name will never grace anything more than this blog and that my friends,  is enough for me …

 

Anne Harrison 11.02.17

 

Anxiety induced writers block

Anxiety is a dreadful waste of the imagination. Something will happen,  usually something simple and rather insignificant.  Yet for some reason it will worm its way into your thoughts and alter events into every worst case scenario you can imagine.

The words you want to use are buried deep inside a thick layer of panic as the mind creates situations mentally that causes physical side effects,  your heart races, you feel sick, cold, you can’t eat, or eat the wrong shit… your mind is so wrapped up with imaginary ‘what if’s’ that you don’t even have the sense of logic to speak straight,  you’re on autopilot or simply frozen as the mind cripples you with a fear that does not really exist beyond your own skull …

And that in itself is your own personal horror story…

 

Anne Harrison 11.02.17

Leicestershire Landscape

A Brief adventure into the fumbling form of Photography…

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As my mad scribblings race ahead of my fingers, my written notes skip ahead to Part 33 and my mind races way beyond this as inspiration has flooded my thoughts. I was aware that I had not shared my rambling musings recently, which is just another aspect of this blog.

I have been writing considerably, the book on my desk is packed with my mental vomit as I use my words to work through the pesky brain worms in my head…

I keep writing ‘Getting There’ like some form of mantra, it pops up on my pages frequently and I like this concept – Although I do not know where I am going, I’m still getting there…

Last week I bravely ventured forth and posted a collection of my artwork – yet I would not classify myself as an artist… This week, I thought I would share some of my photography – Though I would not classify myself as a photographer…

Says the writer, who is not a writer, yet can not cease writing!

 

Anne Harrison 03.02.17

Returning to Writing

*Some personal thoughts*

 

I’ve not written since before Christmas, I had decided to give myself a little time out to reflect on recent events and focus on coming to terms with my current loss. I tried to write, but my words had become fuddled in my mind, they wouldn’t translate to paper/screen and the pictures in my mind vanished with frustration. The longer I tried to hold a scene, to describe events the swifter events slipped by… My muse had left me… *strike dramatic pose*

Truth was a lot simpler, I just had too much of ‘normality’ that needed my attention and the inner realm was not in fact  beyond my grasp, but pushed back to the far recess of my mind so I could deal with what laid before me. My stories starting to play out in my dreams instead, this helped resolve my insomnia, I was dreaming and I was sleeping. These factors also aided my ability to deal with shit.

I have dreams which follow on from one another, like my own personal soap opera in my mind, I replay last nights events in my thoughts as I lay my head down to sleep and somehow the little characters in my dreams can pick up the threads of a tale and run with it.

So if I can think it, see it in my mind and even dream events, why can I not find the words I need to describe my inner world to my small circle of readers? I have new characters to introduce you too, new plots and plans, I decided that I would introduce mythological creatures when a Phoenix entered the Kings realm and stole the stone (spoiler?) my imagination was working overtime, but my pen laid dormant.

Maybe the answer was with the appearance of the Phoenix? For these creatures arise from the ashes, they are life after death, resurrection, reincarnation… Personally they have a family connection lingering there deeply…

I needed time and I needed to accept the fact that I also had to take a break from writing, because forcing writing just turns into nonsense. So I rested, my story rested, my dreams lead my plot and in life I could focus on the harsh reality I was going through. Sometimes the answer is not to escape, but to give reality the attention it required…

I am ready to start to write again – yet I’m still not ready to cry… But I am back!

 

Love Anne, 09.01.17

 

 

Birthday Pledge

 

To refuse to feel my age. 
To refuse to act my age. 

For growth
For determination
For tomorrow


To heal
To let go

For finding my smile
For adventure
For now!


Anne Harrison 03.11.16

The Two Year Gap

So… I found something I posted from 2014,  which I have already shared with you all recently…

Wow! I have changed, or at least I feel as though I have changed… I read through my old words and I see the old me as I was, tubby,  insecure,  anxious,  fragile,  dependent…

I still have issues with anxiety,  but I have developed independently enough to understand that the ‘what if’ situations I play inside my head are all figments of an over active imagination.

2016 has not been kind to me and my family, but I strongly believe the old me, the one who wrote those words,  would have struggled with all this shit…
Trust me,  it is a struggle,  but I know I need to be strong for others now and not my old selfish insecurities… Me, me, me…I, I, I… Can you really escape that personal torment and focus on others…  Was I really that unbearable?

I realise that what I wrote was so close to the point where everything changed,  that I really was on the path to where I am now… I also know I still have a way to go yet.

I have come so far in two short years…  That I’m looking forward to next Monday!!

 

Love Anne 02.11.16

Confession of a Chaotic Mind

Lost … Without a Map or Compass …

You know the little story I’m writing – we’re on part 6 this week (though I’m not sure part 5 actually counts towards to plot) You know I have absolutely no idea what I’m writing, where the story is going, or what I’m going to write before I sit down at the keyboard.

It’s all free writing, currently I don’t even have names for the two main characters, I’m not sure from one day to the next if I’m even going to continue with the tale. Isn’t it all exciting!! I mean I’ve not even read through what I have already written, it’s a total mystery to me, but it’s also incredibly fun…

To pick up a thread, to allow my fingers to dance across the keys as my mind just pulls forth words from apparently no where to string together, weaving my silly story from one blog post to the next. Think of it like a ‘Chose your own Adventure’ story, except there isn’t a page to turn to, because it doesn’t exist yet…

*Insert Evil Laugh*

I can ‘see’ them in my minds eye, hear their voices, I know what they’re wearing, even how they smell, but because I’ve not put this into words (yet) none of it exists beyond my little brain… and even when I share my words, who ever reads them will ‘see’ a different shade of blonde, or a darker leather, Elm trees instead of Oak (if I just refer to a tree generically)… Isn’t it all very incredible and interesting…

Generally we (English Speaking) have a mere 26 letters in our alphabet, by arranging and rearranging these 26 letters constantly to form words into sentences, into paragraphs into pages. We can share what we imagine and allow others to mentally translate these letters into vivid stories… Which is what makes writing all kinds of exciting…

Maybe I’m not really ‘Lost …’
…Maybe I just need to lay my own path.

Maybe I’m not really ‘Without a Map or Compass … ‘
… Maybe I just haven’t created them yet.

 

Anne Harrison 26.10.16

Escaping Fiction

Juggling Stones

Sometimes we have to face reality and ask ourselves, what the fuck am I doing with my life? Which pretty much sums up this year, my birthday is approaching and I’m finding that I’ve done nothing on my to-do list apart from adding more challenges to it. I don’t even feel ready to start my New Years Resolutions yet and it’s October! I feel that once I find myself on a roll, something comes along and pulls the carpet out from under my feet. One thing I have been able to maintain (even if I have not always written every week) has been this Blog. Which keeps my love for writing alive and my creativity flowing, sometimes you get my random thoughts, sometimes silly short stories and if you’re really naughty, you get my God awful poetry.

I’m trying to learn another language, having chosen to return to University, this is a  dreadful mistake. I’m a total brain dumb tongue tied confused wreck! But I’m going to stick with it, after all, it is another stone to juggle in my life.

Jack of all trades – Master of none…I question my intelligence, it would be so delightful to be clever enough to do a degree, yet the more I learn, the further from my reach this imaginary goal appears to be.

I need to *Stop* Just pause in life, look around and take stock of who I am, where I am, where I am going and what I want to do… Because I feel like I’m trapped on a carousal, spinning, dizzy, grasping and slipping … There is so much I want to do, so many stones to juggle, I don’t know where to start and where to finish…

I destroyed my journal as my thoughts were drowning out production, thinking instead of doing. Stomping over the same ground, picking up more stones to juggle as I spin… I could be a circus act, if I had a glittery costume…

Don’t worry… I will carry on with my story shortly, today, I needed to air my thoughts. Maybe I should use my Birthday for a marker point for change? Or is that just tempting chaos? Maybe I should just embrace the chaos with a smile and a wink, safe in the knowledge that life will never be boring as long as there are stones to juggle…

 

Anne Harrison 25.10.16

Part 5 – Irregular Conversation

 

There was very little conversation as night fell and rations were shared. My guardian chose to keep guard, to watch over our slumber, one dog by his side. I couldn’t sleep and so went to join him, sat just above the trees – the sky vast and dark, cloudless with a sprinkling of twinkling stars…

…

“Now what happens?” He spoke without turning to face me.

“What do you mean?” I had no choice but to answer his question with a question of my own, a little taken aback by his bluntness…

“What happens next?”

“I don’t know?”

He shrugged “Well if you don’t know what happens next, I guess we’re all stuck in limbo.”

I nod my head with a long resigned sigh… “I don’t know what to write next.”

There was the truth, my honestly he was seeking, with judgement in his eyes, he turned to face me, I could see him clearly in the nights dull light, because I knew what he looked like, with fine detail. But I had yet to describe him in my story, I hadn’t even given him a name yet. It was all very vague and I sighed once again.

He glanced back over his shoulder to those slumbering in the cave. “Do they know?”

“Know what?” I followed his gaze… “That they are not real, that they are mere figments of my imagination, their torment, their tragedy nothing more than words on a page. Hara, who wears the image of a lady on my bus route?” I thought of the Number 5 bus, the silver haired Asian lady that got on board at the Melton Turn, the way she looked over her round glasses seeking the illusive free seat, how she reminded me of a wise old owl.

“No, I guess they don’t know. I mean, they will continue to lay sleeping until I write the next line.”

“But you can see me, hear me, you know my voice, how I look, my clothes, even my smell… Yet none of this, none of my details exist beyond your mind?”

I simply nodded. “I’m at a loss my friend.”

I don’t even know where we are? Fantasy? Dystopian? A weird Avatar forest like world? In the past, the future… Nothing more than a war, a forest and a handful of characters…

The story had started well enough, a work-shopping story in University class, I had included two endings, one that I have already shared with you all here on WordPress. The second ending, I liked personally, but everyone in class concluded my words should be scrapped… I think I would like to share them again for you, while we sit here under the stars contemplating our future together. I still like them, but they serve no purpose other than to be destined to be scrapped once more…

 

The Soldier

– Trojan – Centurion – Viking – Samurai – Knight – Cavalier – Confederate – Nazi –

Saved the Child

– Messiah – Mother – Innocence – Prophet – Purity – Saviour – Hope –

That saved the Soldier

A frail hope for humanity – a story spiraling throughout time…

 

Anne Harrison 20.10.16