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Oct. 8th, 2003 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spokeWoke up this morning. In the morning. When I'm supposed to be asleep.
Because my sister was visiting with her kids, and they were yelling and Ashlin was screaming, as she is still in the 'little tiny baby who can't bear to be parted from Mommy' stage. Couldn't go back to sleep, because I wasn't awake enough to be able to move. O.o Was very upsetting, stuck in the drifting on the edge of dreams state.
Whenever I did fall asleep, I had a recurring dream. One of these that I seem to have had all my life, old, familiar, knowing where i am and what should happen. Never remember enough to make any sense of it when I wake up. Something about trains... and one of the few constants in all the dreams, I've noticed. Almost always trains. Water in some form; rivers, waterfalls, rains, floods. The wheels on things always catching my eyes.
I know my pattern in writing, starting with the poetry that has always been my first response; to write, and re-write, until things feel like they're where they should be. Constantly re-cycling the efforts of the past; even in NaNaWriMo, it's an old story I'm picking up. Not one i'd actually written out, but...
Looking back over my poetry, in the process of re-cycling (once I started making myself take myself seriously again) i've noticed even in the poems, there are patterns of interconnected stories.
I have a feeling i've mentioned this before. Oh well. ^^;
So, for a few months i've just been -gathering, orginizing, trying to sort out what's part of a story and what isn't. I think this is what started me backsliding, really. The sheer amount of stuff i've written, (given i've been writing since I learned how-I got in so much trouble for writing on blank pages in books in school! XD 'But why'd they put it (the blank page) there if I'm not supposed to write on it? ) and how much of it is crap, anybody would get overwhelmed.
>.< Then there's the fact that I can't, don't even dare throw away the crap, because of the re-cycling aspect. I never know when I'm going to look at something that almost makes no sense, and have a flash of what I was getting at when I was fumbling around, and know what to do with it now. And not wanting to overdo things, and force the story out of poetry form when it should remain there.
But the drawing-only just starting to realize how much that is connected to it. When I was little I always thought I'd make the drawings for my own books. Decorated things, the only parallel I can think of now is pictures I've seen of old medieval texts. And children's books, ofcourse. ^^;
But I look at what I'm drawing now, the 'style' (and it still feels pretentious to call it that-although I have this feeling that there's a clue in the fact I even use the word pretentious) I'm developing-and it fits. Don't know... maybe now that I'm getting somewhere in not putting myself down, I can get somewhere in everything else.
Because my sister was visiting with her kids, and they were yelling and Ashlin was screaming, as she is still in the 'little tiny baby who can't bear to be parted from Mommy' stage. Couldn't go back to sleep, because I wasn't awake enough to be able to move. O.o Was very upsetting, stuck in the drifting on the edge of dreams state.
Whenever I did fall asleep, I had a recurring dream. One of these that I seem to have had all my life, old, familiar, knowing where i am and what should happen. Never remember enough to make any sense of it when I wake up. Something about trains... and one of the few constants in all the dreams, I've noticed. Almost always trains. Water in some form; rivers, waterfalls, rains, floods. The wheels on things always catching my eyes.
I know my pattern in writing, starting with the poetry that has always been my first response; to write, and re-write, until things feel like they're where they should be. Constantly re-cycling the efforts of the past; even in NaNaWriMo, it's an old story I'm picking up. Not one i'd actually written out, but...
Looking back over my poetry, in the process of re-cycling (once I started making myself take myself seriously again) i've noticed even in the poems, there are patterns of interconnected stories.
I have a feeling i've mentioned this before. Oh well. ^^;
So, for a few months i've just been -gathering, orginizing, trying to sort out what's part of a story and what isn't. I think this is what started me backsliding, really. The sheer amount of stuff i've written, (given i've been writing since I learned how-I got in so much trouble for writing on blank pages in books in school! XD 'But why'd they put it (the blank page) there if I'm not supposed to write on it? ) and how much of it is crap, anybody would get overwhelmed.
>.< Then there's the fact that I can't, don't even dare throw away the crap, because of the re-cycling aspect. I never know when I'm going to look at something that almost makes no sense, and have a flash of what I was getting at when I was fumbling around, and know what to do with it now. And not wanting to overdo things, and force the story out of poetry form when it should remain there.
But the drawing-only just starting to realize how much that is connected to it. When I was little I always thought I'd make the drawings for my own books. Decorated things, the only parallel I can think of now is pictures I've seen of old medieval texts. And children's books, ofcourse. ^^;
But I look at what I'm drawing now, the 'style' (and it still feels pretentious to call it that-although I have this feeling that there's a clue in the fact I even use the word pretentious) I'm developing-and it fits. Don't know... maybe now that I'm getting somewhere in not putting myself down, I can get somewhere in everything else.
