Slivers of silver

My thoughts are like slivers of silver that swirl around in a colorful marble, reflecting the dynamic seven colors of the rainbow.

Samson the Nazarite, did you hear of him? They say he wore his hair in seven locks, I wonder if they took seven years to lock?

Could that be a reason that he has two 's' in his name or does the other represent the number six?

Is it true that we always remember the time we were sixteen or is it something we are all made to believe? Cos I surely can't remember much of my 16th year on earth-honestly!!

Are we all playing make-believe or is that which we are living as real as it gets?

My thoughts are like bubbles, floating above my mental state, floating high above in the air, ever so gently, reflecting the colors of the rainbow.

Who determines the path we walk? Is it us or does the Most Divine have more to do with it than we acknowledge? Ponder.

Are we really all truly unique in the way we speak, act and generally behave or is there someone out there with a voice just like yours? Ponder.

Do we wear masks that we exchange with each situation? Are we all just capitalist pigs that don't care for the betterment of an entire nation?

We act like we care, but when the backs are turned and knives are pulled we struggle and fight and kill for materialistic things. We like to own and have and possess even if we have no time for the things we eagerly acquire.

My faith tells me to collect treasures in heaven where no moths can destroy and nothing rots.

Maybe I need some time out for reflection and reciprocation.

How are my thoughts created and how do I battle for the right thoughts to gain dominance within my mind?

At times I really need to take my mind on vacation, then the intricate slippery of my slivers of silver seize to swirl and lay down quietly like silken skies or rather the first snowflakes laying to rest to announce the beginning of winter.

My thoughts are like snowflakes and sun rays all in one.

My slivers of silver seize to swirl to lay quietly like silken sand in a desert in the absence of wind. As they begin to stir I hear the silent sounds of the south wind, struggling closer.

Sand grains lifted spirally into a vortex of sparks of sand as they swivel and swerve and dance into the solemn distance. As the sizzle of sand sparks dies down so envelops a surreal sand coat the slated surface.

My thoughts are like snowflakes, protruding sun rays and silken sand all in one.

Slivers of silver.

Full Time Artist

Full time artist

Full time artist. Yes that is what I am or more precise what I will commit to be from this day forth. I have been inspired to believe that I can be that and do it despite the hardships I face within my society. Despite the discrimination, the jeers and leers and the voices that say that is not all I can be.

An artist is all I desire to be. I have no wish to be anything but the writer and director that I was born to be, but due to nay-sayers this wonderful desire has taken a back seat. To earn money I did this and that and that and this and all of it left a void deep within.

That is all I know, it is the only thing I am good at, the only thing I can excel at. It is the one thing that allows me to reach beyond my borders of my own limitations. It has enabled me to rise above and fly into skies of dreams and hope.

The women in Zimbabwe are such fighters. And now I too have signed up in their fight. Women of Zimbabwe are so supportive and understanding and I have joined their ranks as a fighting woman.

Lets fight for our rights, for our voices to be heard. Lets fight to see the freedom nestled in our hearts dying to be released. Lets fight for our God given rights to be women of knowledge of wisdom, women who nurture, who achieve and accomplish.

Thank you women of Zimbabwe. Despite the hardships you face, you have found solid ground beneath your feet and have lifted yourself into the whirlwind of what is to be.

I thank you for your love. I thank you for your advice. I thank you for the welcoming that has been so warm and filled my heart to its totality. I thank you for being you and not trying to imitate no one else. I thank you for staying true to your roots and telling stories of your own land with courage.

But most of all I thank you for accepting me as a full time artist and nothing less.

Faithful

FAITHFUL by Brooke Fraser

There's distance in the air and I cannot make it leave
i wave my arms' round about me and blow with all my might
I cannot sense you close, though I know you're always here
But the comfort of you near is what i long for

[CHORUS]
When I can't feel you, I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can't hear you, I know you still hear every word I pray
And I want you more than i want to live another day
And as I wait for you, maybe I'm made more faithful

All the folly of the past, though I know it is undone
i still feel the guilty one, still trying to make it right
So i whisper soft your name, let it roll around my tounge,
knowing you're the only one who knows me
You know me

[CHORUS]
When I can't feel you, I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can't hear you, I know you still hear every word I pray
And I want you more than i want to live another day
And as I wait for you, maybe I'm made more faithful

[BRIDGE]
Show me how I should live this
Show me where I should walk
I count this world as lost to me
You are all I want
You are all I want

When I can't feel you, I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can't hear you, I know you still hear every word I pray
And I want you more than i want to live another day
And as I wait for you, maybe I'm made more faithful

I write what I like..Part I

I write what I like...Part I

I have struggled to be a continuous writer throughout my life. Well ever since I became conscious of the fact that I wanted to write. I just thought I would write, not giving too much thought to the genre, the style of writing or anything like that: I wanted to be damn writer, so who cares what you write and how as long as I could write right?

If only it were so easy.

I started writing in my teenage years, with diaries and poems, short stories and tons and tons of stories that were envisioned to be books one day. Teenage romance, thrillers, stories similar to great Jane Austen classics with diluted and dull characters with great dialogue stolen out of the very classic novels I had been inspired by. Awful, even I cringe at the memory.

My father thought I was collecting papers that would be better off recycled and out they went one day. I kept them in a suitcase that I had since I was 10. It is not so much the love for the suitcase, as it was made of carton and had a jeans pattern on the outside, but more for the treasure that lay within. I have to admit it was a hurricane mess, it took a whole day for me to assemble the papers that made up one story, so not even I knew what was plotting (yes please note that pun) in that suitcase. And as soon as the family saw that it was excuse enough to get rid of it.

I was not sad nor depressed, I was just a little surprised that they could not see my ingenuity and that I would write and write and had (wait for it) stumbled on a gold mine of writing. But no such luck, the family cheered and danced when that old suitcase was finally dumped away, while I walked around in silence thinking up the next story, just to show them!!

Of course I had a great deal to learn about structure and language and the English tenses were also not the easiest for me to grasp. I wrote in very romantic and sophisticated forms and used words I had never heard used in speech. My synonym dictionary was my best friend, but it took another 5 years for me to learn its proper function in my writing life. I did not make sense and so I had to learn to be myself and find my own voice from where I could tell my kind of stories, my way.

It was not about rewriting Jane Austen or Mark Twain, I had to write about stuff I knew, understood and be led by my heart.

I wrote thousands of letters to friends across oceans and friends I saw each day and never got tired of writing another 10 page reply. I learnt to write the way I would tell a well thought out story around a dinner table and so slowly I began to find the true writer within me.

As I went on to varsity I needed to find freedom celebrating living alone away from parents and the crazy party me came out in full force and wanted to cause havoc everywhere she went. Unfortunately writing was now labelled boring and immature, so the pen and paper did not see the light of day until second year.

I wrote here and there and even had an boyfriend at the time who found my writer's stash (yes indeed another had meanwhile collected) and actually encouraged me to be a better writer. He too wrote, so it all made perfect sense. I was becoming.

I wonder why we tell stories to people who don't know us,

but who are kind enough to condone us 5 minutes of their lives

Since I know I got to be wise, I ponder and think about issues to address

every breath lost is a moment irretrievable

I imagine it is like a governor preparing to address congress

or a songstress her thousands of fans in her barely there dress

So I take the hands of time and express my sole desire to acquire life eternal

to reconnect with my paternal, who has given me the gift of life

and enable me to illuminate the dark paths with the light

that's why I write

PICTURE:

I call this picture fishing for great ideas, because as a writer that is what I am suppose to be doing all the time. Too bad I get a little lazy along the way, but I am always inspired to push and create, break down and recreate, any day any time, after that soda and that movie and that phone call....sigh.

Finding love

It's been a while. Gosh managing and keeping up my blog has been a little harder than I imagined, but I have vowed to myself to nurture my first love which is writing, so I am back to the drawing board, which means screenplays, poetry etc and I figured it is the perfect time to get the blog going again.

So much has happened since I last wrote and in my search for truth I stumbled upon love, which waved at me from a distance. It blew air kisses, which made me stumble, but I could not stop and glance over nor air kiss back. I was too busy trying to figure out, who had sent him.

I should have just looked into the skies of life to retrieve my answer, but no I was so self absorbed in days to come and peripheral things, I could not see the gleaming sun rays that surrounded me. Love comes when you least expect it but fortunately when you are at your most receiving.

Well me and my conscious 'cool' self, waved back but could not approach and as opposed to leaving me alone to do my thing, love came strolling over casually and I fell...hard.

It was the best thing ever, even if on some days I get scared it's too right and try to sneak back into my 'cool cocoon' of assuredness and try to restore my self control. Losing balance to fall in love is necessary because your other part will level you, hence the term partnership. You are in it together.

There were days I could not eat and sleep and my stomach was in knots with butterflies fluttering around and exploding like fireworks on New Year's Day. I was so sick in love I could not stand it. I asked God to please take it away and as I got know this man, the sick feeling made place for understanding, appreciation and tolerance. Gratefully, had I stayed ill for one more day I might have slit my wrists, it's the worst kind of feeling and it reminded me way too much of High School. Thank God it is OVER.

The greatest thing about it though was that this love filled me in my entirety, spirit, mind and body. It made me realize so many other things, things I had once loved, but had discarded and this gave me the opportunity to re-discover them. I am happier and more fulfilled since I met him, I am stronger and more knowing. Yes, pure, sincere and honest love does exist. It is not about finding the right person it's about being the right person.

Do you know that feeling of when you know, you know, you know?

I am in that state and it's refreshing. I do have doubts that plague me every once in a while, which mainly surface from my own insecurities, but as I grow in this relationship we work to discard them and build on the foundation God has laid and grow the trust in one another.

I just know the same hand that wrote on the wall in the book of Daniel, also wrote this very union that I have with this man.

I stand strong and trust, because I know that nothing can be cursed that God has blessed. The hardest part about this all is learning to become entirely selfless and accepting all the aspects that come with love. Whether good or bad or painful or joyful, it's all in that one container of which I have already lifted the lid.

I could not have accepted this love so easily if it weren't for the greatest love in the entire world however. God's love. He just shaped me and prepared me and showed me how much he loves me. Had I never experienced his love prior to that I would not be able to give love back.

Of course I am still dealing with many things, but it is good to know that He showed me His love and is teaching me how to give it back. Thank you Jesus.

He blesses me so I can be a blessing unto someone else and this man will be blessed cos I got all my love to pour out to him.

Love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

So now I am walking on the yellow bricked road paved with love as I seek to restore my destiny. I know I am seeking truth, God's truth, equipped with love and my partner. I am excited about the journey ahead and the adventures it will bring.

If I could I would be the sun for one day so I can radiate all this love in me, it might be one of the hottest days.

God bless until next time