If you’re a new reader, the date-titled entries are my morning pages a la J. Cameron. These are stream-of-consciousness writing practice. Sometimes there are gems revealed. Sometimes I complain about things. I won’t promise it’s interesting, but it has revolutionized my personal creative process and productivity. For me, it works because I get to organize my thoughts before I do anything with my day.
Sometimes I give myself a to-do list. Sometimes I write a poem. Sometimes I sort out my thoughts related to stories in the media. Sometimes they get personal. Don’t worry about me over-sharing, though.
I skipped my pages yesterday, because it was Black Friday. National holiday celebrating consumerism. Can’t remember if I wrote on Thanksgiving, which is the day that makes more sense to take off. I think I did, though, because it’s important to me to be grateful.
I spent enough time with family that I even snuck in a nap. Technically, that is untrue:
A nap snuck unto me.
My Sister (in-law) took my niece (in fact) to the Taylor Swift movie. I’m not a fan, but I’m not not a fan, if that makes sense. I’m not a hater, and she’s an undeniable talent. And she’s a Chiefs fan these days, so she can’t be all that bad. I wonder if we’ll get pictures of her on the Country Club Plaza this year.
Anyway, they went off to the movie and my brother went up to Hollywood Casino because he likes to place a few sports ball bets.
I probably should have pulled the thread until I got an invitation to go to the casino again, but I had been there since morning and kinda wanted to go home for a nap.
And then my mother gave me a sad face about all of her kids leaving too early on a holiday, so I decide to stick around for leftovers dinner, which is always my favorite. I prefer it to Thanksgiving lunch, because we’ve release all pretense of a formal meal around the formal table. There’s something freeing about changing into fat pants, watching football, playing games and just nibbling on cold, dark turkey.
See? There’s a phrase I can use in a poem or something. Cold dark turkey
Nibbling on cold dark turkey
(And if you know you know… nibbling has a double meaning)
So that’s how a poem could start. And this one probably will. However, I like to write poetry on my 90s-era electric typewriter, so I bid you, blog reader, a fond adieu so I can get to work.
And this is a prime example of how my morning pages inspire my creative productivity.