hahaha!
Love Song
I admire his persistence
and oh, how his howling soothes
like the thumping inside her womb
those vibrating drums birthed from her mouth
I admire his persistence
how her beats stretch across his howl
The night twinkles
bare, bare, bare, with dull blood
Dance in her womb, crawl on your knees, eyes shut
A mighty hand guides you to the unknown
-Saschia Johnson
Blind
I can get angry
and sad
but generally I’m a happy girl
Always smiling, always laughing
creative eye always searching
I tend to be too positive
The bad in humans evades my view
So when I see it, it becomes my art
Because not all people are good
I know that,
I just can’t see it
-Saschia Johnson
New Project, New England Authors
I’ve started compiling a list of Famous Writers from New England!
Still working on the list. But this is what I have so far. I’m proud to be from New England and live where so many great writers have lived. Thought I’d make page to show off my home.
Doors 3/15/2018
Travel Ideas
So if you don’t know this yet I’m a huge Roald Dahl Fan. (I mostly love Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.) While reading ” Story Teller: The Authorized Biography of Roald Dahl” I found that he has a museum in the UK! Visiting the Roald Dahl museum is officially on my bucket list. It’s located in Great Missenden which “was home to Roald Dahl for 36 years until his death in 1990. He wrote all of his children’s books and many of his adult short stories in the Writing Hut he had built in his garden. Many of Roald Dahl’s stories are based in and around the village.”
The Roald Dahl Meseum
Not only do they have a museum, they also have a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory eye shadow palette!
#goals
feature image from Smithsonianmag.com
Wonderlust
You and me on a boat
drifting between heaven and earth.
Funny faces and parental nicknames
like nappy and blankie.
We’re rugged from it all.
Tired and oddly inappropriate.
But together we’re something else entirely.
We’re mountains or islands
we’re something larger
something worth exploring.
Yes, we are new and uncharted territory.
Wild animals never seen
flowers never painted.
New and old
and never imagined heights
tickle our noses.
Wine falls from the heavens.
You squeeze my hand
and take my coat.
I hold your heart and never let go.
Glow worms hang from silk
and adorn our togetherness
with wonder.
-Saschia Johnson
Creative Process
The creative process to me is the most important act. I feel it’s important to demand respect in my creative process. Of course, this process isn’t a thing that’s visible to all. And that’s because it is created in my own mind, so it’s not expected to be understood by anyone else. We have secrets, us creators, but the truth of the matter is, it mostly looks like writing the same idea in 50 different ways or three and deleting them all. It looks like three am ideas forgotten or typed up with blurry eyes. It’s caffeine highs and caffeine free for the day with hope that the spark might…. maybe…. possibly return for just a moment. When it doesn’t, it looks like tears and manic episodes and madness. Tantrums with myself that no one else would truly understand. Hearing the words, “Why don’t you just do it?” over and over again. And there’s a possibility that I could, but this creative process is the biology of the artist. It’s greatness folded in with the limitations of being human.
Critic Blurb
My critical voice has a one liner I have yet to combat. It usually goes something like,
I guess I’m just not cut out for this.
It’s comes in many different ways. That’s my excuse, my weak spot. Those are the words my inner child says hears right before a melt down or, in writers terms, a writers block. So over the next few weeks I will be trying to come up with positive responses. All the others I can combat, but this one knows me best.
I need to protect my inner child, this can’t go on.
I’m completely open to suggestions on this one.
From: Your Muse
I’d show up if you wrote more for me
I’d lay it all out for you if you took five minutes out of your day to write me something pretty
There is nothing else expected but your words
flowing in their own natural beauty
and your thoughts the root of it all.
Sprinkle them with love or lust or utter contempt
use the voice of a famous silent actress or the silence of a loud one
Simplify them
encode them so I must search for you between lines
what ever you do do it for me.
-Saschia Johnson
