Creative Interest is a Novel Being Written

The creative inspiration has come out of a part of my mind only to be written upon something that would spark immortality in its words. Permit the imaginative spirit to tread upon the keys and create words that lure interested readers. Reading is a path leading into a different dimension; a parting from reality. This fictional account, as it is being written, stirs the interest providing wonderment as to what will happen next. A condition hatching from inspiration, shall it be named talent, molds the writing  into an interest bearing story, poem or haiku. The individual composing this turns the "flow" from slow to medium and lets the fluid run in a controlled manner. The stream is the river that runs in one direction and that direction is its destination. 

A writer can illustrate how the process of the story unfolds. This philosophy works for many a writer. It is the love of the craft. This craft called writing can be therapeutic in its nature and at times challenging work. 

Poetic License

Poetic License: Is the expression of creative writing from a personal and unique perspective. To compose one's thoughts, particularly mine, in an interesting poetic fashion. Poetic fashion is the donning of a personal style. Over the years I have honed my style, which includes short stories. Enlightening as it feels, the composing and expression of it is a therapeutic euphoria. How accomplished the poet feels when a poem is complete and in a readable form that is exceptional.  http://jrf8886.livejournal.com/tag/poems
A personal dream of mine is to gather as many of the writings as I can and organize them in a book. In that fashion all if not most is presentable for those to read and share. After all writing is the music that is composed of letters or; in others forms of expression as characters.  Writers are then illustrated as possessing the talent to sing to their appreciative audience. The tone of this production resonates within the auditorium. A Theater of the Mind plays out its most important role. 
Being open plays a key role in the understanding of the lyric. Lyrics in writing are the actors who mimic the plot. The plot is what the author is throwing at you. Have you understood what I am implying? Speaking in the abstract may be confusing for some individuals. With a mindset bent on metaphor a situation is brought to life in a rather confusing yet thought provoking manner. This writer prefers to ascend the spiral staircase in that style. Why? Because the creative thoughts arise and flow like a river heading downstream. Motivation grows and blossoms into a beautiful rose with petals gradually opening like an interesting book. 

Malaguena (Array Mbira)

Music that possesses a unique sound to one's auditory senses. Lay down, feet up, and listen to tonal quality of this musical instrument named the array mbira. Its musical sound relaxes the listener, cloaking their mind and body with welcoming relaxation. Invite yourself and others to listen to this instrument that has its origin from the continent of Africa.

Writing Using Past Experiences and Fictionalizing Them

This is the new post in the process of being composed. In the wake of sorting out words with the purpose of creating a story that has interest. Development of a story can be a challenge, any author can tell the reader that. Among the coterie of writers each with their own particular style, the idea behind the written words is of extreme importance. The plot, as it is called, should be one that provokes a curiosity on the part of the reader.

Some authors will base their fiction on past life experiences. I, for one, have done that and I would like to share a story with the reading public. The theme has tragedy in its telling but the main character discovers a way to survive. Her sense of inner strength brings her though. http://jrf8886.livejournal.com/49254.html

Mental Hospital (1953) What Family Life Can Be For Some

A memory was revived in the childhood section of my aging brain. How life was institutionalized back then. By the institution of life that expression has to be explained by giving an example of a mental institution housed in a veteran's hospital. A rather cumbersome sentence wrapped in awkward detail. The opening of a book to chapter one of someone's life as narrated by a little girl. This child is the observer. She absorbs and makes the effort to understand the insanity of her father's behavior and her mother's lack of understanding. Childhood is the stage where learning is of paramount importance. This learning is to be used in adult life as we interact with others and work.

How my child mind attempts to interpret mother's non-verbal stare. Is my role in this family to be acted out as an adult both mentally as well as physically? What about father's mental illness; it was never explained to me! Where do my feelings and emotional support belong? I have observed my family falling apart at the seams with no fabric glue to bind it. Hopes and dreams of togetherness are carried downstream and crash against the grey rocks.

Fantasy life has its purpose of acting as a buffer to ease the pain of reality. Play mom's 78 rpm records and physically spin clockwise to reach that euphoric sense of fun. Go ahead wear out that carpet, the linoleum and the soles of your shoes! Ecstasy is on the forefront. Daydream about the boy a grade ahead of you. After all dancing with him is just plain fun. If fortune telling the future was my gift then in a few years I would imagine myself with that Fab Four.

Mom had a habit of crying for no reason at all. When I questioned her as to what the problem would be, her reply was "It's nothing". It must be something otherwise she would not be crying. The problem must be me then. She must be crying because of me.

The adults in the family would converse amongst one another regarding problems. Childhood and adulthood were quite separate in those days. There is not a memory in my head of an adult explaining and supporting my needs as to how family life would different from now on.

As years passed a facade of an unnatural smile or acting silly was the fence around my own depression. A feeling of failing and not   being "tough" eroded my poise and self confidence. Those were the days where I felt I should have been in a mental hospital. There, I felt my needs would have been met.



Raising children is serious business. It is a commitment not to be taken lightly. If one has children and needs guidance in child rearing, then seek it out.

Jealousy (1954)

Jealousy is that emotion which can drive one to jump to conclusions and tear apart a relationship. This short film, well acted out, dealt with a wife's jealousy of her husband working late. As he arrived home and greeted his wife in a friendly manner, she bombarded him with her unsubstantiated thoughts, adding fuel to the fire. Attempting to reason with his unreasonable spouse, he realized his attempts were futile. Feeling agitated he left. The love of her life leaves without her knowing where he was going. Her thoughts ran rampant as she tried to reason what she thought and what had actually occurred. The phone rings. It is the husband's boss informing her of what transpired between the both men. Feeling awful she decides to search the downtown area for him. Guilty feelings were projected upon the unknowing husband, making him the guilty party of committing adultery. The culprit was her with her unexpressed desires for the cute guy in her acting group. Grabbing her coat and wrapping a scarf around her neck, she walked into the crisp night air in search of her husband. The storefront businesses where she peered into, were brightly lit. One small restaurant on the boulevard was where the husband sat alone in a booth eating his modest meal. Watching through the window made her realize that she was wrong for assuming his intentions were unfaithful. A woman whom they both knew in the small eatery was about to leave when she noticed him. This woman turned and headed for the occupied booth where she sat opposite him. Their conversation was sociable. The wife contemplated whether or not she should enter the eatery. A wise decision came upon her to start heading home and change for bed. At home while laying in the darkened room her husband enters the home calling out to her in a pleasant manner. All seems to have been resolved.

Memories of a Bucolic Scene

Lady in GIF
J.R. Frieman

A bucolic scene is envisioned in my imagination. Its rustic allure tempts me to walk amongst its flowers and smell their perfume like scent. A busy honeybee goes about its business and extracts nectar while pollinating each pretty blossom. Morning glories grow vine like and bloom each morning, only to close their lovely blooms by the early afternoon. Their loveliness always attracted me as a child and I missed them when their bloom was closed. Lilies of the valley had a distinguishing charm about them. Their bell shaped bloom hung in small groups upon one stem. I would imagine them as tiny bells ringing. The lilac bush I had adored. Its lavender blooms and unique scent attracted my curiosity and tantalized my senses. This bush was large in size and provided shade in the summertime. As I sat in its protective shade I would reminisce about the summer nights where I would catch fireflies.

Next to the lilac bush was the forsythia bush. Each spring this bush would sprout beautiful yellow blooms which would turn green when summer arrived. I would imagine these yellow blooms as flowers; gather a few small branches and place them in a glass jar filled half way with water. 

Forsythia Bush 
Photo: Property of J.R. Frieman 

The pussy willows happened to be one of my favorite springtime flora. Their furry outer coats were soft like a kitten's fur and they grow; several were sprouting just on one branch. I would pick a few branches and place them in a vase as decoration. 

As the sun headed toward the western horizon, my stroll through this imaginary nature scene was complete.