long echo nights & crack ice in taiga-wrapped sieidi; come: november slumbers
A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is wunjo, which is translated as “joy” and has been interpreted in both the earthly sense as well as in spiritual ecstasy. It has been associated with healing (emotional, mental and interpersonal) and some sources connect the rune to luck, the act of making a wish, or applied will. Wunjo can also be the inspiration for creativity.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
our lady winter lingers behind her veil frost the skies of feather tasting of crimson & coal echoing ebon memories
A rune poem, based on an Elder Futhark rune selected at random.
Today’s rune is hagalaz, which has a core meaning of “hail”, which was associated with potential, transformation, renewal and change; hail is imagined a seed from which change will arise. Hagalaz is also seen as representative of things beyond our control: a clash between fire and ice.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
purgatory wasting through these feet miss those pavements they once knew, with that rattle clack underbridge and runaway trains going noplace, from weatherworn couch south to lay-z-boy destinations east of uptown lights and rusted fingers grasping rails
if only heaven would come in on the five-o’clock dream we might feel alive once again
I’m currently reading through Trouble Boys: The True Adventures of The Replacements, a biography that I picked up on sale for Kindle a week or so ago. I’m less than halfway through it but, by golly, it is a great read already — although I might have to admit being biased because I lived in Minneapolis at the time that the story largely takes place and it fits with my memories fairly well.
Growing up in 70s-80s Minneapolis, Minnesota was a fantastic time for someone who loved music such as myself. I didn’t really move beyond my family’s taste in music until 1980 or so (which, even by my eclectic standards, was abysmal), but the scene had only really started building up steam the decade before and was just coming to a head by around then anyway.
As I mentioned yesterday, I was needing to get out of my writer head, who wants nothing at all to do with writing (for whatever reason). So I have.
I had previous mentioned my intentions of buying virtual synth and maybe upgrading to the subscription model for my DAW. Then I read the fine print: that subscription price on the DAW was only good for a year, and then the price would double. Great deal at the half-off price, terrible at the standard price.
Well, the last thing I want to do is lock myself out of my own music when I decide to no longer subscribe, so I opted out of that plan and redirected those earmarked funds to the second virtual synth I had my eyes on, thereby saving myself some money in the process.
i have flown to the moon on ebon wings over an ocean of night just to hold her face next to mine
A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is ehwaz, which has a core meaning of “horse”. A horse is often associated with journeys, travel and movement. By extension, it also implies symbiosis with another living creature or fylgja (guardian spirit), and the rune is associated with loyalty or trust. Any undertaken journey may be spatial, emotional or spiritual.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
One of the things I have been considering is futzing about with music again. Like creative writing in my previous post, that also has a well that dries up, especially as I don’t usually have collaborators to bounce ideas off anymore. And my tooling around is more for the purposes of learning new recording, engineering and playing techniques than it is for performance. Much like publishing my writing, I am more interested in the joy of creation than I am in the idea fame or profit.
[Trigger Warning: Musician-speak ahead and I don’t explain the terms I am using. Enter at your own risk.]
That’s where I am at the moment with writing: fiction or poetry or what have you. It’s been at a bit of a drip feed for a couple of months now, so I am going to do what I always do when this occurs: continue to write with less poetry and fiction in the mix, let my creative energies either rest or try new things to “break it up”, and let that well recharge.
It’s not that I don’t have ideas. Rather, it is that they translate in a garbled manner or refuse to come out of hiding. I’ve learned that the best thing to do when that happens is to not force it. When I have forced creative writing, then comes the blocking and I don’t want to do that. It’s kind of like an insomniac trying to force themselves to sleep; the more one thinks about the lack of sleep, the less likely they are going to sleep.
So, I don’t sweat it, keep in the habit of writing (just not poetry or fiction), and consider other outlets for that kind of energy while the creative writing well fills back up.
How about you? Does your “well run dry”? If/when it does happen, how do you approach the matter? Do you power through? Or do you give yourself a break? Or does the dry spot break you?
Sound off below. Please focus your comments on your own experiences rather than commenting on my current state — I’m good, and I’m more interested in how you handle yourself than getting advice on how I should handle me.
