ATAR Notes: Forum

General Discussion => Creative Corner => Topic started by: caffinatedloz on July 06, 2019, 08:17:06 am

Title: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 06, 2019, 08:17:06 am
Hey guys!
I love the creative corner of ATARNotes, and seeing so many cool and different things that people have posted have inspired me to start my own thread! I hope that this will help remind me that even during the busiest times of school, I should spend some time away from the books and do something I really enjoy.

I love writing and do a lot of it (mainly short fiction pieces and poems). I also like to bake and cook as well as dabble in watercolour, calligraphy and photography.

laura <3

I thought I would start off with a piece I wrote: GRACIOUS

I am not stupid. Just because I choose not to speak, does not mean I am stupid.
It.
Does.
Not.
I want to scream it from the rooftops, but I doubt that anyone would understand my slurred speech, especially if they were busy or disinterested. Their purposeful hostility would ensure that none of the sounds that escape my lips would convey any meaning. If people with hearing would make the choice and open themselves up to understand deaf communities, deaf culture and deaf language, that they themselves would gain so much. The ideas and expressions of our community are rich and vast and anyone who cuts themselves off from that, out of confusion or fear is being ignorant.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My feet felt heavy. They were dragged along the hostile grey concrete. Every lump on the bumpy footpath was felt through the thin soles of my runners. With my eyes downcast they continue to carry my body along the path speckled with dark green weeds poking through the cracks.

A car alarm startles the gloomy neighbourhood, snapping everyone else out of their tired trance.
Although everyone else on the street stands frozen for a second, Grace doesn’t react to the obnoxious high pitched noise.
“Look at the girl over there,” one stranger whispers to her husband.
“Which one?” he asks.
“The one with the huge blue coat on; she didn’t even notice the car alarm.”
“And?”
“It’s just a bit strange, that’s all,” she huffs.
“I mean a little.”
“Her boots are filthy! And why on earth has she got a hood on?”
“Maybe she’s cold. Why does it matter to you so much?”
“I just don't like strange dirty girls sculling around the neighbourhood, that’s all.”

A million eyes on me make me shiver, even though my coat. The strangers shoot icy daggers my way. I find my hand moves towards my hood and tugs it further over my face. As my eyes remain fixed on the ground, my feet take me up the stairs into a cafe.

Grace stands in the doorway, admiring the carpet. Eventually, she forces her glance upwards and meets the eyes of the peppy waitress. Her eyes work hard to decode the movement of red lines. They move from straight to oval and straight again, but most of the meaning is lost on Grace.

If I could hear her voice, it would be high pitched and energetic. I imagine that the words would come out loud and fast, like a babbling brook bubbling away. Her voice would match her large smile and bouncy gait.

Eventually, she realises that the waitress has told her to choose a table. Her shaky hand points towards the empty back corner. To most people, the corner is anything but inviting, but today it is just what Grace needs. The waitress nods and leads her to the back. Clumsy gears turn in her brain as she urges her mouth to choke out a slurred thank-you. The blonde waitress’ ponytail is already swishing as she skips back to the kitchen by the time the clumsy sound rumbles out of Grace’s throat. It stops her in her tracks and forces her to turn back towards her customer. She thinks about saying something and begins walking towards Grace. Then she decides not to and continues on her way back to the kitchen. She just leaves Grace standing there.

She just leaves me standing there. My body slumps and collapses into the hard wooden chair. The constant rumble of white noise is still in my head. I groan in frustration that the only sound that travels through my ears and reverberates around my skull is useless buzzing instead of meaningful communication. All high pitched noise is completely lost in the rumble of nothingness.


When I was three I stood at the traffic light holding my mother’s hand. My chubby fingers were intertwined with hers. Another little girl with her mum wandered down the path and planted themselves on the curb next to us. My slurred voice shouted a greeting that roughly resembled hello, unaware of the startling volume at which the sound escaped my lips. I waited expectantly for a reply. I carefully studied her little pink lips, watching and waiting to decode them. However, her reaction was anything but the friendly hello I had been hoping for. Her lips began to quiver and she began to cry. Wide pink ovals hollowed out and made way for the childlike scream to emerge. This unleashed waves of sad salt that drizzled from my eyes and ran down my cheeks. The little girl’s mother turned angrily to mine and said something that child-me did not understand. My mum, however, knew exactly what it meant and hurried away. She stopped at the nearest shop she could and bought an ice-cream to console me (although, I think she was in need of some consolation herself).

After a few minutes of looking over the menu, the peppy blonde waitress makes her way over to Grace’s table, bouncing ponytail and all.
“What do you want?” she asks slowly. Every word comes out of her mouth syllable by syllable. She unknowingly distorts her lips while she does this and therefore makes her question almost incomprehensible to her customer.
“Please speak normally,” Grace asks shyly. She does not mean to be rude or difficult but it is paramount to the way she communicates that the chalky red lines move as expected. Any disruption to their normal rhythm can greatly affect the decoding process. She can tell almost immediately that her request did not come out as nicely as she hoped. The waitress nods and smiles, but her eyes give away her displeasure. Her shoulders droop and her springy gait has become monotonous and lifeless.
“I’m sorry,” Grace says, startled at the thought of upsetting the poor young waitress.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other artistic endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 08, 2019, 09:20:22 am
Sweet Potato and Carrot Soup

This is my own recipe, that seems to evolve a little bit every time I cook it. Originally it was a carrot soup, and I decided to add some leftover roast sweet potato in, and now it has become what it is. Generally, I always add lots of chilli, but I recently started using curry paste instead of just an extra tablespoon of chilli flakes and I think I like the flavour better.

Makes: About 6 bowls

Ingredients:
2 tbsp Olive Oil
1 Onion, chopped
3cm piece of Ginger
6 Medium Carrots, diced
2 Medium Sweet Potatoes, diced
1L of Vegetable Stock
1 tbsp Ground Coriander
1/2 tbsp Hot Chilli Flakes
1 Clove of Garlic
Pepper
1 tbsp of Tikka Masala Paste (or any other red curry paste)
500ml Water

 
Method:
Heat the olive oil in a pot on medium heat.

Add onion, garlic,  ginger, chilli flakes, pepper and ground coriander and cook for 30 seconds.

Add carrot and sweet potato and cook for 1-2 minutes.

Add the stock (and curry paste) and bring it to the boil, then reduce heat and allow to simmer for 20 minutes.

As needed, add water.

Let the soup cool slightly and blend using an immersion blender in the pot.

If you are unhappy with the consistency, add water (1/4 cup or so at a time.).



laura <3

Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Joseph41 on July 08, 2019, 04:17:41 pm
Looks delicious. Perfect for a winter meal!
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 09, 2019, 08:36:49 am
;D TRIPLE CHOCOLATE CUPCAKES ;D
With the parentals out all day yesterday (and me left in charge), my little sister I decided to do some baking. We made chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing and milky ways on top. (Tbh, not really a chocolate fan, but my sister loved them so I couldn't really complain.) We had a lot of trouble with the cupcake recipe, as we had never made it before. I ended up tripling the amount of milk (6 tbsp instead of 2) and the cakes still came out quite dry. I triple checked we included the right amount of everything else, but perhaps our eggs were smaller than the recipe expected. In future, I would probably add a third egg (if I ever made it again). We also didn't have any chocolate (only cocoa powder) so making buttercream like that was a new experience for me. Also, having a set of smaller and less experienced hands wanting to help with everything was annoying at times, but she's so sweet I couldn't be mad.

While the cakes were cooling, my sister and I went on a very long walk to buy some cupcake decorations (and also ingredients for dinner) as there was almost nothing in the house. Coming home and realising that my key to the front door wasn't working was a fun experience. (Luckily I could unlock the backdoor as I had that key as well). In the end, she decided on Milky Ways, but chocolate covered raspberries were a close second.

-------------------------------

Looks delicious. Perfect for a winter meal!

Thanks, J41!
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 12, 2019, 09:07:44 pm
Been doing a lot of knitting as of late. Put away a scarf for about a year, but recently got it out and finished it! Very happy with the result but I still need to weave in the loose ends and I would also like to add a large pom pom on each end.

After that project, I cast on a new grey scarf with some wool with a lovely texture. If varies in thickness which has created a nice pattern on the scarf. Undecided on whether I will keep or donate this one. (But I really don't need another scarf.)

(https://i.imgur.com/j8IYeqo.jpg)

In future, I might try to branch out of the garter stitch scarf family of knitting, but it is certainly something I have become very comfortable with.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 13, 2019, 07:19:41 pm
Something a little more melancholy today. A piece that I just put together and have yet to edit, but I just felt that I needed it out of my system.

When Sleep Isn't Enough
It’s exhaustion.
But she’s not just tired.
It’s exhaustion that sleep can’t cure.
It’s years of giving too much.
Of sacrificing pieces of herself.
Years of being what everyone wants her to be.

It’s shame.
Her past haunts her.
She cannot see old friends,
Without remembering what they know about her.
She cannot walk into that room,
She cannot go to that place.
Because that is where she loses control.
That is where she lets her tightly reined mind go.
And her brain races ahead
As vivid memories dance.
She screams as the consume her,
But no one can hear.

She cannot look herself in the mirror
Without seeing her scars.
Years later,
The ugliest of them remain.
Scar tissue covers her arms.
Digestion problems from years of abusing herself,
Will never disappear.

It’s exhaustion.
But she’s not just tired.
It’s balancing every memory.
Compartmentalising.
Pretending.
And sometimes one more thing is all it takes,
To topple the whole stack.

But she is sick of giving herself away.
Tired of being what she thinks they want her to be.
She is sick of hating her self.
Sick of hurting herself.
Sick of the shame.
Sick of the lies.

The Fear is Suffocating Me
I am terrified.
After years of giving it my all,
I am terrified I won’t make it to the finish line.

I am petrified.
That I’m not good enough.
That no matter how hard I try,
It will never be enough.

I am scared.
That my schooling can only end in disappointment.
That I have set my expectations so high that there is no way I can ever meet them.
That ever if I achieve my goals,
I will still feel regrets.
That there will always be something more I could have done.

I am terrified.
Scared of trying my best.
Petrified of giving it my all.
Because what if I do everything?
Sacrifice it all?
And it still isn’t enough?

I am so tired.
I am burning the candle at both ends and I can’t seem to stop myself.
I am tired and aching.
I am anxious all the time.

I have never felt so suffocated.
Surrounded by noise.
Lonely in a crowd.
Disconnected.

I am my own worst critic.
And I am terrified.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 17, 2019, 06:38:28 am
Just a little something...

12AM
The clock ticks over to midnight and a new day begins. The sun is long gone now and instead the sky is littered with pockets of white light. Tired eyes search the sky for answers to impossible questions. They hunt for sleep in darkness destroyed by streetlights. They stare up at an imperfect moon. Almost round, almost whole.

Burn
A phoenix is a beautiful creature. It represents true resilience and reminds us that even in the darkest times beauty can be created. When we are going through tough times we can remember that are worthwhile if we only know to grow from them.

Feathers turn to flames. Burn. Flames turn to ash. Burn. Ash turns to dust. But still the phoenix burns.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Bri MT on July 17, 2019, 03:20:32 pm
Just a little something...

12AM
The clock ticks over to midnight and a new day begins. The sun is long gone now and instead the sky is littered with pockets of white light. Tired eyes search the sky for answers to impossible questions. They hunt for sleep in darkness destroyed by streetlights. They stare up at an imperfect moon. Almost round, almost whole.

Burn
A phoenix is a beautiful creature. It represents true resilience and reminds us that even in the darkest times beauty can be created. When we are going through tough times we can remember that are worthwhile if we only know to grow from them.

Feathers turn to flames. Burn. Flames turn to ash. Burn. Ash turns to dust. But still the phoenix burns.


Small correction: we are worthwhile even when we don't know how to grow from them. Sometimes we grow without knowing how or why, sometimes it takes a while for us to grow, and during the whole process we retain our value.


I've liked reading your works and the perspectives you convey through them - thank you for sharing :)
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 17, 2019, 05:22:35 pm
Time ticks too slowly for my liking.
Always moving forward,
At a constant dragging speed.
But as I lay here at 4:21,
I can’t help thinking how nice it would be,
If 4:22 came round much faster than I’m used to.
And as 4:27 becomes 4:28,
The speed of time still feels inane.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 19, 2019, 12:09:50 pm
Some pictures from the city!

(https://i.imgur.com/sdkYo0k.jpg)

(https://i.imgur.com/2tpC86W.jpg)

(https://i.imgur.com/7TBSqHO.jpg)

(https://i.imgur.com/4LgDBkg.jpg)

(https://i.imgur.com/6jOUTUn.jpg)

Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 23, 2019, 07:17:13 am
Last night, doodling seemed much more appealing than doing homework.
(https://i.imgur.com/PlMUBYv.jpg)

(https://i.imgur.com/okTRlK7.jpg)
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on July 25, 2019, 06:42:24 pm
Sometimes it is ok to
Do nothing but be,
To do nothing but breathe,
To lie down on the floor
And just remember you exist.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on August 03, 2019, 10:14:34 am
Choc Chip Cookies!
(https://i.imgur.com/OUw4Iu8.jpg)

I used this recipe with slight alterations. I added a little more vanilla, as well as putting in half a cup of chocolate chips and half a cup of white chocolate chunks (rather than one cup of choc chips).
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on August 07, 2019, 09:10:19 pm
(https://i.imgur.com/wgfsdB5.jpg)
Two finished scarves and one in the making.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on September 04, 2019, 07:09:24 pm
a bit of an experiment...

(https://i.imgur.com/Mqn0wb2.jpg)
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on September 19, 2019, 08:18:41 am
She is shackled by her fear,
As she watches the entire world burn.
The world watches the world burn.
But in hours, the world has forgotten.
The world doesn’t really care.
The world never really did.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on October 06, 2019, 08:19:05 pm
disclaimer
Hey guys,
I wrote this waiting for a train a month and a half ago and have not edited it since. Sorry for the clunkiness.

The bird has been in this cage many times before.
She knows the darkness of this place well.
The familiarity provides little comfort,
Because bars are still bars,
And locks are still locks.

The girl has been trapped in her mind many times before,
She has lost herself in a sea of her thoughts.
She has been so fixated on all that she should become,
That she forgets all that she is.
The familiarity provides little comfort.
Just because you know what your deepest darkness looks like,
Does not mean that it does not still petrify you.
Just because you have been to the edge of your soul,
Does not mean you aren’t scared of falling off the cliff..
And although thoughts are just thoughts,
They have a way of twisting themselves around you,
Inhibiting all movement and squandering every hope of growth.
If she leaves her thoughts unchecked for long enough,
They will become the bars and locks that use to bind her.

There are other ways of making people into ghosts.

The girl has learnt to free herself before.
She has learnt to turn on the light,
In the midst of her deepest darkness.
She has learnt to cling to a lifeboat,
When the roar of her mind begins to crash like waves overhead.
She has learnt to fight with everything she has.
But she has also learnt to exist in the dark.
She has learnt to embrace the panic,
To allow the thoughts to overcome her.
She has learnt to rest and regenerate.
She has learnt to wait.
Because just when it feels like it might all become too much,
She is able to embrace it all.
She stretches herself and wraps her arms around her broken bits.
She gives her soul a hug.
She shakily rebuilds herself,
And watches the cage shatter.

Just like that,
The frantic fluttering of wings stops.
The bird soars high.
Because thoughts are just thoughts.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on October 20, 2019, 06:38:26 pm
The little spot of darkness travelled through the light.  She gobbled and guzzled, growing bigger night by night.
She wandered in the sunlight, and meandered in the bright. Bit by bit, the blob of darkness discovered she could fly. With newfound courage, she ambled through the sky, soaring high past twinkling stars. With time, the black ball grew accustomed to the height. She began thrive on the thrill of the night. With friends among the planets, the orb soared across galaxies. In her travels, the darkness found fellowship with the aliens of Neptune. The beige octopus like creatures, crept on all eight tentacles. But- with seventeen eyes facing all directions, the void of darkness never felt as though she was talking to their faces. The loneliness of uniqueness prompted darkness to flee. And darkness found another planet, a refuge from the octopi sea. As the dark abyss explored the Milky Way, she decided that she liked the look of Saturn so there she stayed. She met creatures of all sizes, a chaotic cohort of friends. But they all had one thing in common, one thing the darkness lacked. Together they formed a bright rainbow, they were a collection of hues. And what was darkness? The chasm was absolutely nothing. And so the she fled. Once again, she was a nomad, travelling through the sky. The darkness was one-of-a-kind, and in her fear of loneliness, she found solitude. As she travelled through the universe, her anger burned within. She used the fire to fuel her growth, and a rift is what she became. In a rampage, the darkness tore through the sky. She swallowed the twinkling lights of the sky, swept through planets, leaving them barren. And then she spotted the sun. Its mesmeric glow drew the darkness in. And in the light, she slowly began to heal.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Owlbird83 on October 20, 2019, 06:44:41 pm
The little spot of darkness travelled through the light.  She gobbled and guzzled, growing bigger night by night.
She wandered in the sunlight, and meandered in the bright. Bit by bit, the blob of darkness discovered she could fly. With newfound courage, she ambled through the sky, soaring high past twinkling stars. With time, the black ball grew accustomed to the height. She began thrive on the thrill of the night. With friends among the planets, the orb soared across galaxies. In her travels, the darkness found fellowship with the aliens of Neptune. The beige octopus like creatures, crept on all eight tentacles. But- with seventeen eyes facing all directions, the void of darkness never felt as though she was talking to their faces. The loneliness of uniqueness prompted darkness to flee. And darkness found another planet, a refuge from the octopi sea. As the dark abyss explored the Milky Way, she decided that she liked the look of Saturn so there she stayed. She met creatures of all sizes, a chaotic cohort of friends. But they all had one thing in common, one thing the darkness lacked. Together they formed a bright rainbow, they were a collection of hues. And what was darkness? The chasm was absolutely nothing. And so the she fled. Once again, she was a nomad, travelling through the sky. The darkness was one-of-a-kind, and in her fear of loneliness, she found solitude. As she travelled through the universe, her anger burned within. She used the fire to fuel her growth, and a rift is what she became. In a rampage, the darkness tore through the sky. She swallowed the twinkling lights of the sky, swept through planets, leaving them barren. And then she spotted the sun. Its mesmeric glow drew the darkness in. And in the light, she slowly began to heal.

I love your writing!
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on October 22, 2019, 12:51:35 pm
I love your writing!
Thanks Owlbird! <3

------------------------------------------------------

Why am I friends with the darkness?
Why don’t I fear it anymore?
Why do I let it surround me,
When it chooses to call?

I am friends with the darkness,
I don’t fear it anymore,
I let it surround me,
When it chooses to call,

Because I know without the darkness,
I would love the light less.
And I know that the darkness,
Will always make way for the sun.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on October 23, 2019, 04:46:22 pm
She turned her face to the sun,
And cast her gaze upwards.
She stretched her feathers like fingertips,
Reaching and yearning.
Filled the longing within herself,
With the soft yellow light.
For a second,
She let herself forget the cage.

Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on October 30, 2019, 08:47:12 pm
the petals of peach
fan from the sun
the hope
that new birth brings

with spring
comes the long awaited morning
as growing and yearning
are satisfied

as shells crack
they are made whole
with the peace
of new life

growing pains fall away
shattered bodies fall away
until the only thing
that remains is light

and the hope
that new birth brings
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on November 20, 2019, 06:12:02 pm
how had the night lasted so long?

it was like waking up for the first time; and realising how tightly the fog of sleep had bound you.

it was like breathing fresh air for the first time. it was really, truly being alive in a way she had never been before.

but once her thirst for freedom was awakened, she would never be able to sleep ever again.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Bri MT on November 20, 2019, 08:25:58 pm
how had the night lasted so long?

it was like waking up for the first time; and realising how tightly the fog of sleep had bound you.

it was like breathing fresh air for the first time. it was really, truly being alive in a way she had never been before.

but once her thirst for freedom was awakened, she would never be able to sleep ever again.


Hey Laura,

Freedom and hope seem to be strong themes in your writing if you're comfortable answering do you know why that is?
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on November 20, 2019, 09:17:48 pm
Hey Laura,

Freedom and hope seem to be strong themes in your writing if you're comfortable answering do you know why that is?
I don't want to be super depressing/weird/personal/triggering, so for those who want to read about it I'll stick it in a spoiler:
;D ;D
I really struggled with anxiety and an eating disorder and coupled with some abuse from a teacher at my old school, I went through a really, really rough time. Moving schools, making more friends and getting involved in lots of things helped to lift me out of a really dark place. I still have occasional blips and bad patches, but on the whole, things are a lot better now.
For ages, all I could write about was what happened and what I went through. It was super personal and very dark, so I never felt like I could share it. Recently, I started submitting some of my older writing to magazines and publications (under a pen name) and the response was really wonderful, but it didn't really feel like me anymore.
I think that I wanted my writing to uplift me and others, rather than be something that suffocated me. At the time, writing about how I was feeling liberated me. It was cathartic. But reading all of the things 12-year-old, abused and terrified me wrote is far more painful now than creating something new.
One day, I just sat and wrote like 30 poems, or phrases, or starts of stories. What I'm posting at the minute is me workshopping all of that gradually. I think it reflects what a great place I'm in now and how I overcame what happened to me. I think that coming out the other side of everything says a lot more about me than any of the stuff about who I was when it was happening.

Sorry if that was a little dark.

TL;DR: I wanted my writing to reflect who I am because of what I overcame, rather than what my experiences did to me. I think that this writing reflects where I am on my journey right now.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on December 08, 2019, 05:06:48 pm
She balances between the two.
Perfect harmony.
She is on the edge between who she was;
And who she is going to be.

Saying goodbye to who she was,
Seems the insurmountable task.
Habitually melancholy,
Fractured self and soul.
Fleeing the isolation of starvation,
She stares into the void.

Turning her gaze upwards,
She surveys the rocky cliff face.
Will it be worth it?
Absolutely.
But how could she know that yet?
Does the peak offer glue,
For her to bind herself back together?

Will she give way to life in her lonesome?
Or strive for something better than desolation?

She is centred between the two.
The inconceivable choice.
Is unknown ambition,
Better than the predictable pain?
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: yesh.weerakkody on December 09, 2019, 11:11:44 pm
Holy wowowow. This place is an actual gold mine!! And omg.. I hope you are in a better mental place after experiencing those things and you are so strong to make it through that!!! I am looking foreward to seeing more poems and other artistic stuff! ;D
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Joseph41 on December 10, 2019, 11:59:51 am
Great writing.

Laura, where do you write mostly? I really struggled to get much down on paper unless I was having a coffee at a cafe haha.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on December 10, 2019, 06:46:57 pm
Holy wowowow. This place is an actual gold mine!! And omg.. I hope you are in a better mental place after experiencing those things and you are so strong to make it through that!!! I am looking foreward to seeing more poems and other artistic stuff! ;D
Thanks so much! <3

Great writing.

Laura, where do you write mostly? I really struggled to get much down on paper unless I was having a coffee at a cafe haha.
I think that I end up writing mostly on the train or sitting on grass next to the train station. I tend to write more when I'm feeling tired, so I often write in bed after a long day. Whenever I sit down to write things, they often never come, so I wait until I'm feeling it.

A cafe seems like a nice place to write. Do you write many creative things or is it more assignments and essays?
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: yourfriendlyneighbourhoodghost on December 11, 2019, 09:15:35 am
disclaimer
Hey guys,
I wrote this waiting for a train a month and a half ago and have not edited it since. Sorry for the clunkiness.

The bird has been in this cage many times before.
She knows the darkness of this place well.
The familiarity provides little comfort,
Because bars are still bars,
And locks are still locks.

The girl has been trapped in her mind many times before,
She has lost herself in a sea of her thoughts.
She has been so fixated on all that she should become,
That she forgets all that she is.
The familiarity provides little comfort.
Just because you know what your deepest darkness looks like,
Does not mean that it does not still petrify you.
Just because you have been to the edge of your soul,
Does not mean you aren’t scared of falling off the cliff..
And although thoughts are just thoughts,
They have a way of twisting themselves around you,
Inhibiting all movement and squandering every hope of growth.
If she leaves her thoughts unchecked for long enough,
They will become the bars and locks that use to bind her.

There are other ways of making people into ghosts.

The girl has learnt to free herself before.
She has learnt to turn on the light,
In the midst of her deepest darkness.
She has learnt to cling to a lifeboat,
When the roar of her mind begins to crash like waves overhead.
She has learnt to fight with everything she has.
But she has also learnt to exist in the dark.
She has learnt to embrace the panic,
To allow the thoughts to overcome her.
She has learnt to rest and regenerate.
She has learnt to wait.
Because just when it feels like it might all become too much,
She is able to embrace it all.
She stretches herself and wraps her arms around her broken bits.
She gives her soul a hug.
She shakily rebuilds herself,
And watches the cage shatter.

Just like that,
The frantic fluttering of wings stops.
The bird soars high.
Because thoughts are just thoughts.

This is so beautiful, you have such a way with words! Do you hope to incorporate writing into your future career or just keep it like a hobby? 😊

Random, I read the disclaimer and at first thought it said "I wrote this for a train." 😂
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Joseph41 on December 11, 2019, 09:59:19 am
Thanks so much! <3
I think that I end up writing mostly on the train or sitting on grass next to the train station. I tend to write more when I'm feeling tired, so I often write in bed after a long day. Whenever I sit down to write things, they often never come, so I wait until I'm feeling it.

A cafe seems like a nice place to write. Do you write many creative things or is it more assignments and essays?

Makes sense!

Cafe for me was basically just poetry. I reckon I wrote about 950 pieces - of very varied quality hahaha - between, hmm, maybe 2009 and 2016. And then work happened, and it just stopped. Had a mean Tumblr account for a while haha.

For assignments etc., library worked better.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on December 11, 2019, 10:00:45 am
Cafe for me was basically just poetry. I reckon I wrote about 950 pieces - of very varied quality hahaha - between, hmm, maybe 2009 and 2016. And then work happened, and it just stopped. Had a mean Tumblr account for a while haha.
Wow! Sounds like you need a poetry thread... *nudge nudge*

Did you write free verse or structured poems? ;D ;D
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Joseph41 on December 11, 2019, 10:04:54 am
Wow! Sounds like you need a poetry thread... *nudge nudge*

Did you write free verse or structured poems? ;D ;D

Hahaha. Good idea - maybe next year if I can get back into it. ;)

Mostly structured. Have you read this book? It's really good, and I found it helpful:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/66856.The_Ode_Less_Travelled

Happy to lend to you if you haven't. :)
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on January 12, 2020, 01:05:26 pm
I've been doing some baking recently and experimenting with how many different things I can put in puff pastry. It's very easy and VERY delicious.

So far in terms of savoury toppings I have tried:
- spinach and cheese
- tomato and cheese
- spinach, tomato and cheese
- vegemite and cheese

And sweet toppings:
- nutella and/or raspberry jam with a combination of coconut and almond flakes
- stewed fruit
- stewed and sweetened fruit (apricot, pear, peaches ect.)
- jams (crab apple, strawberry)

My favourite by far are nutella and almond!

I've also been experimenting with shapes. I've made scrolls, squares, rectangles with open ends, long and thin twisted things and triangles. My friend made some with me and experimented with some loveheart and butterfly esque shapes. They were all equally delicious.

some pictures
(https://i.imgur.com/9INjcMP.jpg)

(https://i.imgur.com/FwGqYkE.png)

(https://i.imgur.com/fn3WZf8.png)
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on January 21, 2020, 04:34:02 pm
She is sick and sick of herself. Bound by a concoction of self inflicted exhaustion and a permanent state of anxiety she collapses into fitful solitude. Always running. Always moving. Never letting herself have an idle second; because just one second of thinking is all it might take for waves of withheld thoughts to rush in again. For a tidal wave of doubt to knock her weary soul off of it’s shaky and unsteady feet.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: Poet on January 23, 2020, 12:04:04 pm
She is sick and sick of herself. Bound by a concoction of self inflicted exhaustion and a permanent state of anxiety she collapses into fitful solitude. Always running. Always moving. Never letting herself have an idle second; because just one second of thinking is all it might take for waves of withheld thoughts to rush in again. For a tidal wave of doubt to knock her weary soul off of it’s shaky and unsteady feet.
But others watch this fitful solitude, the turn of the tide against her. They see her sickness and worry, the way the sea inflicts its will - invasive, unwanted. They understand that weary gait, a barefoot runner on dangerous shores, and offer a hand to help her up the rocks, if she lets them. The tidal wave will come, but it will never find her here. In the shelter of friends, a wanderer can rest.

If you need help, we're here. You don't have to run alone. Noone ever does.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on January 30, 2020, 11:33:40 am
stagnance
sunlight showers shoots of emerald;
blooming slower than a stagnant river.
roots chase each other deeper,
hunting remnants of spring drizzle.

she too is a stagnant flower,
idle in the feverish climate.
imprisoned by the pitter patter
of butterfly feet caressing her middle.
by the thump of wings
and heart, in her chest.

her mind wanders as roots do;
hunting far away smiles,
and withheld sparkling remnants.
Title: Re: laura's writing and other creative endeavours
Post by: caffinatedloz on June 15, 2021, 09:27:52 pm
I want to start writing again. Literature made me remember my love of poetry (and taught me a lot about it). Looking back at my old work, I cringe at how simplistic it was. Here's something I did recently. I worry my style has been quite heavily influenced by Plath as that's what I've been studying at the minute. Nevertheless, here it is.

Colonised.
Desperate paws pry their honeycomb free.
Soldiers greedily loot the cavern,
Hungrily securing their bounty.
Satisfy their appetite,
Crunching on every sweet morsel.
Eroding her until nothing,
But a hollow hive remains.

Commanders have seized the land,
Like ravenous beasts marking their territory.
Howling dogs plant their victory flag,
Between the mountains she once called breasts.
The colonized land feels foreign to her touch.
There is no treasure in this place.
Honey sullied by poisonous embrace.