Monthly Archives: November 2017

Engleza de joi/ Calcification

Calcification = abnormal deposition of calcium salts within soft tissue often causing thickening or hardening.

“Keep awake, alive, new. Perform the paradox of being hard and yet soft. Survive without calcification of the tender membranes. Be a poet. Be alive.”
Tennessee Williams

 

 

Art by Tsuchiya Koitsu.

Stardust Business

My students once asked me if I would ever invest in stardust (at a business course). The question caught me a little offhand. But I said Yes. Provided I attach great value to the shiny star particles.

People buy for two reasons, to increase pleasure and to alleviate pain. These are words from my copywriting course, partly inspired by Sigmund Freud’s words. Simple as this, but not everybody can sell a dream…

Why would you buy stardust? For its attributes? It is golden, sticky, and shiny…Stardust is that “intangible product” with a promise labelled. Selling stardust is like selling services, which I have been doing for the past 5 years. It is like harvesting autumns, and pocketing the sun… So damn hard and so damn beautiful…You make-believe that the world is imperfect without your promise. As we already live in a world of perfect plenty. What is there more to want?

Can I sell stardust? “I wonder,…,if I could sell blessings?” – as deftly put by John Galsworthy in The Modern Comedy. You can sell anything provided it is backed up by shiny strong network of dust, forming the embodiment of your dream, or your organizational culture. Your culture is both sticky cobweb and maze. It must stick to your buyers’ hearts and make them ask for more…directions to get out of the maze. The mission is the story and the engine. It beacons and shines to those who see.

“Stuff your eyes with wonder… live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories.”
Ray Bradbury

What is the world made of?  “The real secret of magic is that the world is made of words, and that if you know the words that the world is made of, you can make of it whatever you wish.” – Terence McKenna  

See the world and read its texture, follow the wind and translate its whisperings. When days are grim, write few lines. When hope seems to have moved to another realm, write another story and listen to another human on quest for Better. When your soul disintegrates, assemble words to paint a picture that you can visit any time you want. Bring shiny warm words to the Moveable Feast I call writing.

“If the world is cold, make it your business to start fires” – Horace Traubel. Start a fire or at least gather wood each day. Do something different. Sing a credible song, play a beautiful tune. Attune people to your song. Leave them better than you found them.

© Iulia Halatz

Art – Stardust by Rob Gonsalves.

November

It was November ~ the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.
L.M. Montgomery

It was November ~ the month of promiscuous trees, turbulent moons dressed up in haze, opal leaves layering the smock of earth.

 

Art by Charles Vess.

 

Engleza de joi/ Steward

Steward = someone who looks after something and protects it.

“Tell the whole truth. Don’t be lazy, don’t be afraid. Close the critic out when you are drafting something new. Take chances in the interest of clarity of emotion.
Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.”
Jane Kenyon

 

Art by Eugene Lushpin.

What can I give you?

What can I give you? I am the blue
as imagined by a blind
and the roots of knowledge
as watered by a scholar.

I am the yellow
wind and the mauve
respond of light
perched
in the ubiquitous trees
tethered in the clouds
that barely scratch
the sky.

I am the green
storm and colorless waves
that wished upon a mountain
to break water in tryst
with the sun.

Not by blindness
we can reorder colors
but by the painting of a soul
in a moment tender
as the liquid moon
is quivering above the forest.

 

Art by Jan Schmuckal.

 

Engleza de joi/ Marsh

Marsh = an area of low-lying land which is flooded in wet seasons or at high tide, and typically remains waterlogged at all times.

“You’re a fire person. What you’re most like is marsh-fire; (…) you got witch-oil in your soul.”
Philip Pullman, Northern Lights

 

 

Gentle giant

You are the mellow vines
ripe at the touch of Autumn.

You are a blue alphabet
falling from the sky…

You are the amber leaves
lured in the sleep of Winter.

You are the macadamized trance
of flowers
when Spring is climbing up the trees.

If you are not the fragrant moon
to bread stars from shimmering flour
You are the color of fire
that burns in everything you see.

 

Art by Michael Cheval.

Engleza de joi/ Trek

Trek = a trip or movement especially when involving difficulties or complex organization.

“A man’s work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.” – Albert Camus

 

Art by Charles Courtney Curran.

 

Writing is a ladder

Writing is a ladder out of Chaos.

My Tyrannosaurus writing has found me a path out of chaos. Chaos amidst which I found myself while trying to develop my business. Then I did not know that business world is sharks’ empire. I put it in writing in my Shark Tale.

Writing must be something of an Iron Tale, must be tough and sincere to the core of human perception of pain as valor. I remain the grumpy T-Rex who started writing out of pain, not necessarily because of a broken world. But now and then with words we glue shards and pieces and put them together with blood. As we sometimes taste blood, ours or others’.

“Of all writings I love only that which is written with blood. Write with blood: and you will discover that blood is spirit.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

Be the one who cares, make words so disruptive that they create new worlds, hopes and dreams. Even if we are unhappy dinosaurs and find shelter in an Iron Tale or ruminate about feeling too much, whilst declaring colorless apparel, we should take power and strength from our stories. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”- Joan Didion

Writing is a ladder to the sky in your mouth when you are in love. 

Pay toll to love in words. If I sing songs to the blooming trees, they remain in bloom. My words protect them from smothering summers and mellow autumns. The “herbivore” writing is sweet and protective. Still they are disruptive words that create ladders and unite…people and their stories.

“Be the one who nurtures and builds. Be the one who has an understanding and a forgiving heart, one who looks for the best in people. Leave people better than you found them.” – Marvin J. Ashton

 

Art by Milla von Luttich.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Merman’s rhyme

He has no love
but music
and cold whispering trees
that were in bloom
under the last dim moon.

He has seen
the unseizable moors
that glitter and dance
in the wandering waves.

He has crossed his Rubicon
The enchantress’ songs
took him along
until he crossed the line of
glimmering waters and fog
with a feral nod.

 

Art by Kinuko Y. Craft.