After reading “Steal Like an Artist” by Austin Kleon ( Highly recommended) I came to be interested with this author. Along my search with Kleon’s name I found out that he has another book called “Newspaper Blackout” . Basically, the book is a collection of poems using a different methodology than the usual pen and paper method. It is about taking a piece of newspaper and highlighting the words that stand out and scribble the rest of the words and than those “stand out words” form a poem. (Visit his site to learn more about it).

I was, still am, fascinated by the idea and put the book on my “to-read” list. Meanwhile, I got inspired (or more likely stole like an artist) to do a therapy using this method and a canvas.

You see years ago when I was 15 years old ( some of you my ex-blog readers know this) I wrote a book. Published and all but not in stores. Because I hated the book I wrote, yes we come to hate the things that we do. From  its dull typical plot, to it’s uncountable grammar mistakes I just left the boxes of one hundred+ books in the closet. So I decided to do a therapy where I renovate my words into other words. My work to other work. Sounds like good therapy to me.

The idea came in taking the first page of each chapter (nineteen chapters in total plus an introduction page) and creating the newspaper blackout thing, than putting it on a canvas that I’ve colored with rusted wall-like color to look like as if its pinned on an old isle wall in some old poor neighborhood.

 You see those red books, yes those mines. After finishing from blackouting the 19 pages I tried to figure out a way to put it on canvas.

Check out my lab coat that is messed up with paint. I wish I could wear it outside

I used acrylic colors, mixed up black and white with a silver touch at the end.

The final result!!

Decide for yourself if you like it or not . The following is each page shown to you and the words it consists. Call it poems, scattered words, thoughts I don’t care but I love it.

Introduction:

I decided to write a story.

I hope.

to all who believed in me.

Chapter1:

My name is…

First…

Second…

Interrupted.

Sighed..

Over and over again.

Shower, clothes, bag, school.

Crowded, talking, laughing,

serious conversations.

What’s going on there?

Chapter 2:

Dreaming, talking.

Smiled, daydreaming.

Bell, books, Dare I know?

Wait and see.

Chapter 3:

Today grin face.

World one play.

Thinking.

You think?

Hoping, daring, be.

Chapter 4:

Nice shot!

cheered.

Eight out of ten.

Joked, laughed.

Chapter 5:

BOOM!

Ugh!

Away.

Chapter 6:

Explore,

Nothing important.

Chapter 7:

Ask.

Good luck!

Chapter 8:

Everywhere, there.

Them moments hurt.

Thought of yesterday.

Chapter 9:

I stayed on the road.

Who could blame.

Answer?

In space.

Chapter 10:

For me,

murder is awful.

Not only that.

Chapter 11:

Judgement may be preserved, but no one to judge:

Needle criminal

is only a nickname.

Chapter 12:

I graduated.

Grownup,

what to do?!

one friend/

Then waiting…

Chapter 13:

Officer please!

All started to whisper.

FIVE DAYS!!

Chapter 14:

To the station.

Wondering why:

the ride is the opposite of

L i f e

Chapter 15:

Here goes nothing.

Situations decided we should start.

Chapter 16:

What do you mean we’re finished from here?

No! It can’t be! Not now!

Orders without agreement,

many risks.

Please, give me time

I can do something!

Chapter 17:

That night we found stupid things.

Only for one thing,

Identity.

Chapter 18:

Tomorrow,

no other day is urgent.

The end

is coming.

Chapter 19:

After I was treated a bunch of flowers applauded.

I cried.

Repeat again.

Those who followed me on instagram knew about this project. Follow me @norawithletters

-Esperanza  Writes

There is a small city, so far way and hidden. In it lives little people working and being hyper active. However, because they are little tiny itsy people in a tiny little itsy city nobody knows of this place. The only creatures who know of its existence are flying birds that pass above it and rest in it while immigrating.  In this city a natural cycle runs. Newborn babies come into life everyday and old folks die as their journey in life ends.

And yet they were different. Different not only in the sense that they were so tiny (much like a journey in Gulliver’s travels to the tiny people) but in their way of fueling. They, not like regular people fuel on food on water, but have their own way of fueling with a weird kind of way. They fuel on letters, inspiration, and moving forward of the normal people. Whenever normal people thinks of words that are combined with multiple letters, or endorses a new kind of knowledge those tiny citizens would be all energized up. Talking a lot and being the fireworks to normal people. Without the normal people knowing.

Unfortunately, if they are not fueled over time those little people loses their power and slack off. And little by little they lose their souls, and this city become without citizens to count.

All those little people’s pleas are that they keep being fueled. To keep the city going. They are afraid to vanish.

-Esperanza Writes

A delicate sign to hope trembling and crumbling, trying her best to make something out of herself. She looked up and reached out to this world thinking would she rather be like everybody else? or Would she show herself no matter how different she is, no matter what made her this way?
She was identified as not being real genetically changed and made to this… but she had to prove herself.. Prove herself right that she existed!!
She was thrown in a snowy windy day on the ground waiting, anticipating for a life saver.. and there a blue rose as lonely, as lost as her… she picked her up, inhaled a deep soothing breath, dropped to her knees and looked up…. and the soft lyrics of a song came along:

Blue as the crying sky
With no thorn, AND no THISTLE
Only AN open face
Staring at the waking worldMaybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine

Her arms stretch wide
To receive a life
And her ROOTS go deep into the BLACK EARTH for strength
And she blooms and

Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine

She blooms while the people sleep
Only the TRAVELERS SEE HER
To those who RISE with the noon day Sun
She is a closed mystery

AND Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
OH, Maybe she´s just a morning glory
Lost in a tangle of vine
Lost in a tangle of vine
Lost in a tangle of vine*

Do you know yourself? Do I know myself? I mean other than the usual description or knowing oneself height, weight, what we like and don’t like, how do we act, who do we like to be with.. etc. Other than that do you we know ourselves? When we go deep, deep, deep, like way deep like going deep into the ocean and I choose the word ocean not sea, even though I do not know what is the difference and I am too lazy to look up the difference, but I choose ocean because it has more letters than sea and more letters are deeper in it sense and also because it starts with an O. Oblivious also starts with an O and that is who we are when we speak about the deep, deep, deep ocean.

When you go deep, like way deep in the ocean in the darkest depth we do not know how it is. We lack knowing how it is. Because when we are down there we are too busy swimming back up to inhale the air, we can’t live without Oxygen (another O). And even if we try to back up ourselves with oxygen tanks so we could breathe underwater, we are not trained to do it so it is difficult. Even if we are trained to do it we cannot handle the pressure because down there the pressure is massive. You cannot tolerate this enough to stay a long time down there. Even though if you are trained well enough you eventually want to get out. It is so much pressure and it is not safe because the sharks and whales could hurt you.

You take the safest form there is to go down there. In a submarine. A really small one that can barely fit two. But you cannot take another person with you even though you don’t know how to work it, because it is too private to let anyone else in this deep place of yours. So you learn how to work this stupid machine and go down there. Even though it’s a dangerous state is still there, but you are willing to risk it.

You risk it so you can know what is down there. The submarine could explode any minute, and could not handle the pressure. But you risk it, you’ve got your oxygen tank to back you up so you could escape this.

I risk it because I do not know myself. Like deep, deep down there in the ocean I am oblivious to this matter. That is why I write. Writing is like going down in this submarine. I am risking it true  So I could see the beauty and ugliness that is down there. So I could see the sharks and the whales even though they are dangerous. So I could see creatures that you have never thought of seeing before and awe at it. So I could no longer be oblivious and know what is there.

Even though it is risky but it is worth it.

-Esperanza Writes

p.s.: A huge advice. Read “The Fault in Our Stars” by John Green.

]]> http://writesz.com/2012/06/12/why-write/feed/ 2 esperanzawrites http://writesz.com/2012/06/04/my-life-by-me/ http://writesz.com/2012/06/04/my-life-by-me/#comments Mon, 04 Jun 2012 20:49:09 +0000 Esperanza Writes http://writesz.com/?p=870 ]]>

My Life by Me

I asked my sisters to look at the drawing above and to tell me what they thought it was about. They were confused and maybe they lack the imagination element that they asked me to explain it however, I refused. Another sister said I’m probably sending a message that I am schizophrenic ;p. Anyway the following is maybe an explanation. Enjoy!

Curious, were they

about the book that I wrote

I wrote a book called “My Life”.

Curious, were they.

The Ghost who had no legs,

The Mask who had no body,

The Zombie who came out of the dirt,

and The Clown, his face undecided expression.

Curious, were they to look inside “My Life”,

Let I them look inside,

So they looked, heard, snickered, pointed, reached,

corrected my un-mistaken mistake,

Forgetting that they were with no legs, no bodies, no soul,

undecided expression and so much more.

Let I them look inside,

Them corrupt I, will not.

“My Life” is for me, them not.

-Esperanza Writes

One of my blog readers, also a blogger herself, Sarah expressed her concerns about  being an introvert when I mentioned in my previous  post that I was one. I found that I had a lot to say and explain about the misconceptions of being an introvert. To be frank, I wanted to write about this subject a long time ago yet I was flirting with this idea and I thought that now everybody knows about it. Turns out I was wrong. I guess now is my lawful duty to explain and talk about the fact of being an introvert. So this post is dedicated to all introverts, specifically speaking to Sarah.

Introversion and Extroversion are a part of long way study of personalities. To be anyone of those is not a phase or something that you will eventually “get over with”. It is genetics more like the color of your eyes. What does it mean to be an introvert? Introverts, unlike extroverts, tend to find their comfort zone within themselves. Meaning that they feel at ease and at home when they are alone doing whatever they indulge in, or not doing anything at all. They tend to speak less in public, especially when there are more than four people surrounding. And when given a choice to either go to a party or stay at home doing nothing, they will hold on to staying at home with their claws, jaws, and about anything that clutches this.

People like to pity them and in general would call them “loners”. What they don’t get is that introverts enjoy this to the max. They do not see the enjoyment in going out and being socially active; and because one out of three are born to be introverts, they are a minority and they are seen to be “weird” and they try to push them away from their weirdness. That is a myth along with many others. 

We have created our own happy world, where we and ourselves are the citizens of this divine place. We don’t mind to be socially active with people but its exhausts us, we need a break where we could go back to this world and feel comfortable once again. Don’t be shocked when I say that I constantly talk with myselves all the time. In fact almost every post you see on this blog is a result of a pep-talk or a serious conversations with myselves. A big shout out to them!!

Don’t get me wrong. I do not mind having real conversations with people, believe me when I say I have tons of them yet it is only done when an interesting subject (according to me). And when the mass of people increases I tend to be more of a listener because this is not where I like to see myself standing. The lesser, the more comfortable people I am with, the more interesting the subject it is I am than talking. I do not mind telling you my feelings and all what is about me but I feel somewhat awkward doing it face-to-face, just give me a pen and paper and I will tell you everything in a ten page A4 paper if not more.

When talking about friend I do have friends and I do not mind having them. I have three amazing  best friends, one as a co-writer in this blog RJA007, who I totally feel at ease with and I they see my silly side of me. I can be as free as anybody else once I feel comfortable with someone. Just give me the approval nod (metaphorically) and I am totally okay with showing you that side. Otherwise I am fidgeting, probably scratch my head more than the norm, speak a bunch of nonsense words, and try to drag myself out of this undesired human interaction. That or I would be sitting somewhere where I am safe from conversations from people I do not know which most often mistaken as a girl with ego issues. And that I would like to beep up with large red light is FALSE.

You see this is a style where some people find it delightful to be socially active, I see it delightful to be un-socially active. I could be walking in a room full of people and making human contact with EVERYBODY, and in real life I might have done that once or twice, and I do admit I might have enjoyed it as well. Hell! One of my dreams is delivering a public speech, which is believe or not I’m practicing it with myselves, because of something I’ve accomplished. But at the end of the day it is more like wearing a mask and going around pretending to be someone that I am not. Being social is just not me. II dwell in living with me and my innie (inner self), and this my dear friends/viewers/ readers/ aliens/ or whoever you are is okay. This is not weird or unacceptable. This is happy little me.

People might go around and point out that this is out of the norm or the “supposed to be person” but really? really? Extroverts stop nudging introverts because guess what? Even though you are the privileged type in this world/society, we are as important to this world as you are. Without introverts there would not be any analytic/mind-blowing discoveries. Because they tend to think out-of the box. People like Einstein, Zuckerberg, Oprah Winfrey, or many other famous introvert temperament people accomplished a lot in their lives.

The message that I’m trying to deliver here is that: if you are an introvert there is nothing wrong with you. You are the way you are because you are special. Be confident of yourself and being alone is your source of energy do not feel guilty about it. Been there done that. And extroverts even though you are extraordinary species that does not make you the only ones on this planet. There are other special ones other than you guys. Give us a break and accept us for who we are. We are normal but in our own way. Got it? Get it? Good!

You will see that all over this post I have provided you with as many useful links as I can get my hand on to ( oh wait!! here is another one here and here) check them out and read them, it might deliver the idea better than me. Here (Upside_of_being_an_introvert ) is an article I’ve PDFed a long time ago and I do not remember where did I bring it from read it if you can. Lastly, I would like to leave you with one of my favorite introverts out there (YUP CHARLIE <3!!) who says it better about introverts ( one of the reasons why I hesitated about doing this post is because of him. Since he has done it why should I? Get it?) and you whatever he says is true about me, and maybe almost all introverts out there.

-Esperanza Writes

Around six months ago I started a survey via internet around the subject “Smiling”. Many bloggers (such as Kuwaitiful , HisHersQ8, Q8blend .. and so forth) who helped spreading the survey, many online people (that I know and don’t know) kindly participated in this survey, even though it had nothing to with cookies ;p. The sum of 71 different people helped make this survey possible for analysis. So 71 thanks to all of you there. Thank you very much!! To read the result I have pdf-ed them for the world to view here ( A_Survey_on_Smiling (2) ).

Just so I can include in the picture to why I proceeded with such a survey. I know smiling has such a huge effect on people it is mentioned in our Sunna as the following pictures says:

And it is as well studied in a scientific form where the result that smiling releases some kind of endorphin (?)  that is such a mood lifter. However, here is my own insights on this subject. Before six months I had one of my many crazy ideas to show people how much it is important to smile and in a way to show it through a miniature study. A part of this study is a ten question survey (above) which is not that deep only a quick, broad questions on the effect of smiling on one’s mood, and on strangers (I do confess that it may hold a part of errors there, but generally it is good according to content. Check it yourself).

The second part of the study (or whatever it is supposed to be called) is based on my own actions. Six months ago I decided to pack a bag of smiles and to distribute them on people that either I hardly know or did not know at all. Six months ago I did not know anybody in college, let us just say I spent all my time either reading, studying, writing with barely any human interaction outside of class. Which is normal, it is not a pity at all where I was an introvert by nature. Except for the sake of the study, I started to slowly edge away from my usual self and smile to almost everyone I came across to. At first I was self-observed where  I was not comfortable at all with this whole “Smiling at strangers” thing. However, I sensed through my efforts to smile that people started to open up to me, get closer and not fear my existence. Gradually I started to smile more often until it became a habit of mine.  I would smile to the cleaner at college and she would be filled with joy for this small gesture, this smile little thing made wonders. I really do not know how much the effect is but in return I go a huger smile that made me smile more. This just brightened my day.

People started to open up with what they felt about me. One girl told, whom I had classes with last year, said to me that before she thought I was a deeply self-involved person that has a weight of life time problems on my shoulder, yet when I first smiled at her, that one single smile everything changed since then. Now she sees me as a totally different person. I’m fully aware that my smile is not magical or sensational I just believe that the act of purely smiling changes everything. Because I’ve went through it I could now say that smiling is not just a gesture it is a mood lifter, it really did effect me in a pleasant way, and so it did effect others as well.

Just a week ago the man at Coffee Republic in his Indian accent told the other employee “She’s a good girl”, I smiled and said “Who my friend?” He replied, “No, You!” And I asked with amazement, “Why?” Then he answered with something that made me smile more, “Because you smile.”

I do not know what is your position right now or later on. We all have our days and self-doubt, but in the end I do believe that a smile is a beginning of a change. A smile makes your day better, and I speak of experience.

So…….,

-Esperanza Writes

Dear You,

I have been hesitating whether to write this letter or not. Words unsaid is better than words said in a way, where there is no faults to retrieve or to apologize for.  It is easier to be safe but within all this being safe does not keep you going forward. I write this letter with indifferent matter to being objective. In the case of you I could never be objective I only could be a part of the whole thing and that is a fact rather than opinion.

Allow me to share with you what I wrote in my previous letter, just a small part of it:

I’m not sure if I should write this letter to someone specific or not. I’m not even sure what to write about.

During the past weeks my heart experienced some new kind of reluctant emotions. It grew  weaker than stronger, then weaker, then stronger. Much confused of its choice. Things are undecided and a coward soul comes in. I’m not making sense am I?

This is where I feel I repeat myself. I know that but how can I make sense when I’m afraid of all that is to come? How can I when all I allow myself to speak with is bunch of coded words?

Here is when I’m asking you to decode those words. It is all up to you.

I end that letter with:

Today I came across this riddle:

“I’m the part of the bird that’s not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?’

Even though the answer is simply “A shadow” to me the answer and the question means more.

With my tranquil heart,

Me

-Esperanza Writes

]]> http://writesz.com/2012/05/21/dear-you/feed/ 6 esperanzawrites http://writesz.com/2012/05/14/mannequin/ http://writesz.com/2012/05/14/mannequin/#comments Mon, 14 May 2012 18:31:16 +0000 Esperanza Writes http://writesz.com/?p=814 ]]>

In order to proceed with this post I have to tell you the story behind why I chose mannequin. The other day I was walking in the mall and I saw a beautiful dress on a mannequin outside a store I went inside and asked to see it. The thing is it was not that good, my comment was like this looks different not good enough as the one on the mannequin. Then I realized of course it must be good on a mannequin because it is perfect. Later that day I decided not only to write a post but sketch a mannequin to accompanies the post. However you could see I not really patient with sketching I prefer oil/acrylic over sketching, but so far the picture (above) was what I came with and it is still unfinished.

Anyway Mannequin:

Mannequin outside the store

Standing so sure, so beautiful no one can compete

Everything on you looks pretty glamorous

My heart-felt envious, if only I was you

“Mannequin!” I cried. “What fortune do you have? How lucky you are!”

“To be looked upon and be praised! To be the center of every glare!”

“If only I was you.”

“No.” Replied the Mannequin, “there is no fortune in myself.”

“There is no luck in the praise towards me.”

“For all I am is a mannequin from wood and plastic.”

“No heart to feel. No life to seek.”

“No glory to look forward to. No heart that feels neither the good nor the bad.”

“No tears to shed, no senses that work.”

“Only a good fitting for some dress.”

“A mannequin that is moved around and around with no tongue to yell ‘STOP!’”

“For the fortune is given to the soul.”

“And me, my dear, am only given clothes to be wore.”

-Esperanza Writes