Red Hot & Goofy

Saturday Morning, I am at the train station on my way to a meet up with friends to attend another friend’s wedding. It is summer, it is hot and I am on an elevated track so I have little protection from the sun. A train pulls into the station, but not the train I need, so I simply stay where I am and wait enjoying the one minute of air conditioning through the open door. I see four kids, two boys and two girls, looking out of the train car window. They were between five years of age at the youngest and perhaps eight at the eldest, just being kids. One little boy for some inexplicable reason decided to stick his tongue out at me. I know it was directed at me as there was no one else on the platform close enough to be considered.

Remember, I’m dressed to go to an afternoon wedding. My hair is curled, my make-up done and my jewelry is not sedate, but not flashy. My dress a perfect fit, following my curves to nicely flow around my knees. In other words, it is the perfect party dress, in the perfect party color – red. Not just red, but RED. A red so bright the devil needed shades to see me and by the many compliments I received throughout the day, looked fabulous in it. Fabulous to everyone, except this little upstart that is. So what does any grown 48 year-old woman do in the face of such profound adversity? I did the most mature thing possible – stuck my thumbs in my ears, waved my fingers, did a little dance in place and stuck out my tongue in return of course.

I suppose because I am an adult (hah!), children do not expect such behavior or perhaps because I was wearing sunglasses, the boy didn’t realize I was looking right at them and thought he would get away with his action. Alas, did I see and responded in kind; much to the surprise and delight of the other three kids with him. Knowing my reaction was in relation to his, he shied away embarrassed at being caught. I smiled and waved bye when the train doors closed. They all giggled and returned the wave as the train pulled out of the station.

I enjoy doing the completely unexpected, even with children.


I Had Words

Depressed man

I had words; words were my all
From opening cap to closing dot
Whether frivolous or thickened plot
Words that captured one leaf’s fall
Or held a fidget much in thrall
Now, I slowly lose all that I’ve got
I had words

Words from days past I can’t recall
Feeling my brain’s descent to pot
I’ve learned to make do with my lot
As from my mind words start to fall
I had words


dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight – Week 50

Living For the Art Of It..

Last night I had the pleasure to enjoy Left On Red (two beautiful, talented young ladies I am happy to call friends), perform at The Bitter End. As I sat there, bopping my head, humming along, I marveled at how my life had changed artistically.

I grew up in a home where the arts were not appreciated. My father truly could not have cared less. While my mother did enjoy a pretty picture, at least  as much as the next person, that was the of her interest. Karma in, full bitch mode, lands her a daughter that adores music, creative writing and drawing. I was attempting pointillism and abstracts, metaphors and onomatopoeia a good decade before I ever heard the terms. Her favorite form of punishment was to break my pencils and tear up anything hanging on my walls. Eventually, I learned to stop  trying.

In fact, I learned it so well, that I was with my late-husband for about five years before he had any inkling I could draw. Still, I lived a relatively closed life at the time and really had no other creative people in my life.  Of course, being a mother, wife, worker etc., life itself got in the way. Okay, that’s not true, I let life get in the way. It was much easier to say I don’t have time for that nonsense, than to pick up a pencil and see if I could still do any of it. Other than painting a mural on a closet door (that’s how my late-husband final discovered my dirty little secret), I did practically nothing for nearly twenty years. Then one day in frustration with my life, I picked up a pencil and started writing. That writing turned into the first poem I had written since high school Somewhere. It was a start, but then — nothing.

It took a couple more years and the internet to finally kick-start my writing into high gear. I entered an online poetry challenge on a website that required you to write a poem based on a given phrase. I did not win, but for the first time in my life, my words were praised by people who were not related to me and whose talents I enjoyed and respected. The dam burst. Within, two years I had written nearly one hundred poems. Now I have no idea how many I’ve penned, I stopped counting after four hundred. Not all of them are gems obviously, but they are all mine.

Unlike some artistic types, I realize now I cannot live in an artistic vacuum. Like misery, my art loves company. Which is why it amuses to no end, that while my childhood was a dearth of creativity, my adulthood now overflows with it. In the past few years, I have found myself surrounded by artists. People with amazing talents and several with the guts to go for it as their life pursuit. Singers, sculptors, painters, spoken word etc. It is a complete 180 turn of events and I am loving it! Granted, I have not picked-up painting/drawing again, the way I picked up writing, but every now and then, I feel little tinges of that urge starting to take hold, so who knows…?

Someday you may own an original Raivenne artwork. You can show it off along with the hardbound edition of my poems. Go ahead and name drop that you knew me when I was just a simple web blogger among the masses.

I won’t mind.


Visit the rest of today’s Slices of Life over at Two Writing Teachers.

SOL - Slice of Life March Challenge 2012

SOL - Slice of Life March Challenge 2012

Liebster Blog Award

I am pleased to have received the Liebster Award from one of my newest followers, Eva Van Pelt.  You can read some of Eva’s lovely words on her blog “Words Dripping From The Night Sky“. Thank you so much Eva, I am honored my words have touched you so deeply to give me this.

Liebster (German) is in Dutch language – Lieveling – my dearest, a word used for the one that is your most special, the one you love beyond borders.

In accepting this award, the recipient agrees to:

1. Show thanks to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
2. Reveal your top 5 picks for the award and let them know.
3. Post the award on your blog.
4. Bask in the love from the most supportive people in the Blogsphere.
5. And, lastly – have fun and spread the karma!

A difficult task to choose only five of all the amazing blogs I visit, but here they are in no specific order:

Girl Griot: If You Want Kin, You Must Plant Kin
My fellow Slice of Life-er, is a friend I just don’t get to see often enough.  Reading her rich words was one of the deciding factors in my finally choosing to blog . She is inspiring.

Andrew Wilmot: In Narro Veritas
Andrew creates worlds with his words that frighten and intrigue and captivate you. Luckily for us, that extends to more than just the written word as he is equally talented in several art forms.

Charles Mashburn: Marbles In My Pocket
I have followed Charles for a few months now. I enjoy his wonderful short stories, poetry and the daily reminder that He Is.

Bajanpoet: Poet: Whispers
A recent find, his words whisper, scream, laugh tease and pull you into them. It is almost scary how often he and I are of the same mind, in spite of the many, may miles between us.

CastingPearls: Blowing Big Bubbles
So many say they give you a piece of them when they blog. Once you read CP’s words, you will know it for the sometimes gut-busting, sometimes gut-wrenching, always heart pulling veracity it is.

Visit these wonderful bloggers and browse around, your soul will thank you.