Dear friends and friendarinos, once again we find ourselves on under the looming eye of mother Moon. I November we celebrate the Moon as a reminder of the looming winter ahead. This is the time when our ancestors looked to the beaver's as they boarded themselves in for the winter. This is also a blood moon for the striking effects of light reflecting off the moon this time of year. Darkness is falling across the land and one can only hope they find themselves ready when the heart of cold and shadow comes beating at the door.
Today, I will be filling in for our monthly contributor. I've selected two short pieces from previous lessons. I hope you enjoy and weather well. Blessed be!
The main theme of the poem is “the life cycle.” Everything which is born eventually dies, and the cycle starts again.
The End. The Beginning.
The last heart beat. The first budding leaf.
The storied skin. The fresh clean slate.
The fruit. The sowing.
The Sweet relief. The hopeful beginning.
Arts Night Creative Non-Fiction
Terms – What is Creative Non-Fiction?
Creative nonfiction (also known as literary nonfiction or narrative nonfiction or literary journalism or verfabula) is a genre of writing that uses literary styles and techniques to create factually accurate narratives. Creative nonfiction contrasts with other nonfiction, such as academic or technical writing or journalism, which are also rooted in accurate fact though not written to entertain based on prose style. Many writers view creative nonfiction as overlapping with the essay. Creative nonfiction is true stories, well told. If novels are fiction and poems are, well, poetry, then what are memoirs? - credit the internet. I forget what I changed.
Tell a story well. What happened within the last week?
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to tell when I'm getting older. It was about a week ago from this writing that I was sitting in the waiting room of my Dermatologist people. I was always taught to arrive early for appointments. It's polite. It also gives you the chance to sit and notice things. At that time I was noticing that there are two kinds of people who go into a dermatologist's office. There are the young, suffering from puberty, and there are the old, suffering from being old. I was there for eczema on my shoulders. Eczema is when your skin decides that it hates everything and wants everyone to know it. Another thing you notice about a dermatologist's office that everyone exudes an air of shame. There's something special about skin diseases. They're hard to hide. Maybe each of us have some primal fear of being rejected from the tribe, of being unclean in their eyes. Upon receiving a prescription for some other creme that I was quit certain would never make my skin find happiness, I walked the sterile halls of the hospital. Then descended the sterile empty stairs. I found my party sitting by a nameless statue in the courtyard. It's hand was extended toward the sky behind the hospital. Then we left and navigated the abomination of city planning that was downtown Anderson. Anderson home of my Alma Matter. Another armpit of human social failure.
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