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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Everyday Canvas
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
December 10, 2017 at 1:29pm December 10, 2017 at 1:29pm
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Books
Yesterday, I visited the local library and was distressed to see a sign that said, “We won’t be accepting used books anymore, at least not until the end of March, as we have an influx of them that aren’t selling”; so, I bought two used books 50 cents each, The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez-Reverte and The Living by Annie Dillard. Granted, I’ll get to them God-knows-when since I am guilty of liking E-Readers much better as they are lightweight, easy to hold, with changeable font sizes, and have built-in lights. Still, the rotten deal the books in print are getting hurts something in me, possibly because I spent most of my life in holding paper books, until E-Readers came into the market.
When I was much younger, I used to belong to a group of book lovers. We used to leave the books we’d already read inside hotel night-tables and, wrapped in plastic, on park benches and the like for others to enjoy. That group is no more, and even if some of us still do that, I bet those books end up in the dumpsters.
Back to my trip to the library, I also borrowed The Art of Death: Writing the Final Story by Edwidge Danticat. Chances are I’ll read it ASAP since I can only keep it for two weeks. Anyhow, how-to-write books tend to drone on and on and repeat one another. Still, I like to look through them just in case they have something I don’t know or some idea that can be used.
Weather
When, in New York, we had the kind of weather we are having today here in South Florida, I would be wearing a tee shirt and lightweight pants. But now, as a Floridian, I am wearing warm clothing in layers. The outside temp is 62 degrees Fahrenheit and we have the central heating on plus a small electric heater in the living room. Given that I’ve grown older and more susceptible to feeling the cold, still I feel embarrassed for being such a chicken. I used to be the woman who used to shovel snow off a 300 feet driveway, chopped wood, and took walks on icy roads in the thick of winter.
This, however, is South Florida and it is easier to spot the newcomers in winter. While the rest of the in-place-and-timeworn residents have donned their old snorkels, woolen hats, and thick scarves, the newcomers usually are wearing shorts and thin shirts. I remember people looking at me with shocked expressions on their faces during my first year here when I was the one in shorts and tees. I guess I’ve acclimated with time to place or age, either way you look at it.
Holiday Office Parties
PROMPT: Office/coworker holiday parties...a good way to blow off steam and de-stress, or trouble waiting to happen? Any examples of either that you're willing to talk about?
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I guess it depends on the office and the party and the people. In my case, I had a few good friends. One of them organized those parties and made a big to-do about them. She hired a bartender, a caterer, and musicians, brought in tables and chairs, and did a few other things, too. One good thing she did was she had us friends around the same table, which made the parties a lot of fun. Of course, there would be a deadbeat bum to stop by our table and harass someone or other, but we were the majority, so that person didn’t last for long. That happens, I guess, at every party.
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