Easing Back In

Okay, folks, I’m back. The end of the school year had me busy, and you know how it is once you stop writing regularly. Gets hard to get back in to it. So, in homage to the school year, here’s a creative style I learned in creative writing, which I wrote in Islam class. In my defense, some of the things we discussed show up in here. Enjoy?



There is nothing more beautiful than the young green of the woods in the sunlight, the grey brown slopes of the trees, the yellows and violets of the wildflowers. Then again, there is nothing more beautiful the alien terrain of the woods at night, dappled with the light of stars, the whisper of moonlight making ghosts appear on tree trunks. But I like the sunshine green—and the starlit dark, the shining colors, the ghostly grey. I have never been good at likes and dislikes.


Mirrors are no good. I want to see myself through another’s eyes.


I rather like the idea of Islamic calligraphy, made to make the readers stop and ponder, interpret, decipher. No one ponders words anymore. They have pocket dictionaries and thesauruses.


Enough about that.


Pronouns were made to replace the noun, to make the speech less monotonous. But what is more boring than the endless repetition of a blandly non-descriptive “he/She/them”? Bob is not Bill, and Sheila is not Heidi. He is not he, but how could you tell?


What could be dearer than humor? Laughter is beloved.


Balance is such a beautiful thing. Does my clumsiness make me evil? Does argument make one Godlike?

Music Therapy

Ancient Islamic doctors used music to cure mental illness. Music could be the cause as well, being an introduction to something beyond the mind, beyond comprehension. Music can make one weep for beauty. Balance again.


Math takes the magic out of everything. Maybe it’s best I’m no good at it.


Why is power a sign of good? Why are the powerful respected? We say might does not make right, but we do not change our practices.


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