Mistake = an act or judgement that is misguided or wrong.
“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.
Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.
So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.” – Neil Gaiman
Art by Gertrude Alice Kay.
…Happiness is the uncle you never
knew about, who flies a single-engine plane
onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes
into town, and inquires at every door
until he finds you asleep midafternoon
as you so often are during the unmerciful
hours of your despair. – Jane Kenyon
Happiness is immaculate
Happiness is the fire person
Burning for your path
Lighting like the moon
dense and bright and alive
Hoovering on the alphabet blue
of the world
Uncovering a soul into desire
Pulling out a Love
that dissolves and finishes…
Happiness is the love
carved into the bark
that kills pitfalls and
feeds the unicorn-green grass.
Happiness is a father
that lived oceanless
for a daughter to grow
tied to the oceanside.
Art by Hansol Choe.
Hurdle = one of a series of upright frames over which athletes in a race must jump; a problem or difficulty that must be overcome.
“Love is a tenacious adventure… Real love is one that triumphs lastingly, sometimes painfully, over the hurdles erected by time, space and the world.” – Alain Badiou
Art by Andrea Kowch.
You are a fair
stinging my eyeballs
whilst I wait
for Mercury to fall
the Titans to cry
and tilting shadows
to moor over
impatient to die
and reborn a thousand times.
Art by Johann Peter Hasenclever.
Brevity = concise and exact use of words in writing or speech.
But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy.
Art by Pod Drzewem Serce.
“We’ve built a world where the only option is hubris. Where the future belongs to anyone willing to act like the gods of our myths.” – Seth Godin
When we strip away self-doubt and artifice we embrace the purity and freedom to feel and write as gods would do.
It is about running and battling with the beauty and the naïveté of the world at our side.
Freedom means courage…
Purity means courage…
Naïveté means courage…
Courage to strip away your soul and let it bloom before Spring is climbing up the trees.
Lately I have become part of a community that starts fires in a cold world, a community that grows blooming trees out of lackluster soil, that takes freedom, purity and courage to the other realm…There are many ways to say: “I love you”, many ways to say: “I am grieving”, many ways to say: “Thank you”.
I have found them all on , where the Thank You’s, the Love You’s, the Miss You’s leave marks on shattered hearts and float towards our soul’s skin and pierce veil after veil to get to the truth. These are words that become warm at the reading…
I am humbled and honored that one of my pieces has been published on Sudden Denouement community. I feel free to borrow more of the purity and clarity of the world to write diverGently…
Art by K,Kanehira.
Forge = make or shape (a metal object) by heating it in a fire or furnace and hammering it; create (something) strong, enduring, or successful.
“Witchcraft is a poetic reality – born from the dragonflies that took shape in the sparks of the first blacksmith’s hammer – as He forged Beauty in the cave of Wisdom.”
Nicholaj de Mattos Frisvold, The Nocturnal Gospel
Art by Paul Gustave Doré.
December is what we are
When love glistens back
the light in the baubles.
We have the White and the Words.
Words that move mountains
tiptoe to touch the stars
whet the wondrous luster of the sea
travel with the wind
glimmer with the moon
Feel not the rejection and foible
of the world.
Words are a soft warm pillow
on which I rest
my threadbare soul
that trod naked
on paths of ice
Words keep my bloodshed
clean on a stave
and in hues of red
a song is made…
Art by Toshio Ebine.