{Messin’ With A Camera and Some Words}

I’ve taken some kinda aesthetic photos recently. Not a photographer, but I like messing around with my phone camera so yeah, guys, enjoy…

I tell the sunset that I miss you. I tell it how my heart aches and how, if the blue of the sky was a little deeper, it could be an upside-down ocean.

 

~sparkler wizard in his element~

What the mirror sees is what I forget – wild hair and cowgirl jeans. Bracelets up one arm, a metallic road spanning bruised skin stretched over muscle, swimmer’s muscle. Swimmer’s bruises. This is me. 

Fire and noise call me from afar. The drums feel like a revolution. There are crowds, but all I see are hands, tucked in pockets, reaching for the sky, for the fireworks that explode above their heads, just out of reach. Beautiful, but fleeting and no one’s to keep. There’s smoke, but all I see are flames, leaping through the air towards me. They call me, set my soul on fire. There’s sparks that burn my heart and it….it makes me feel alive.

Cars pass like moments, seconds even. Things we wanted to say, but….never did. Times when we turned our unspoken words into sighs….wrote the text message, but deleted it before we pressed send. Talked to the stars. Hid our feelings in metaphors and rhymes. I’m guilty. Another car past.

Stop! Don’t run into the fire, don’t burn, don’t follow the crowd, don’t be hypnotised by the flames, listen to my warning in the dark. Please.

“Mummy, the sky’s on fire.” 

I like talking to the sky. I tell it how I feel and then that I don’t know what to feel. I tell it that I don’t know what to say and it listens. I sing in the car because it makes me feel powerful. Just like when I’m in the water, I feel like I’m on top of the world, but I’m not. I feel the light above me and I fight my way up. 

Advertisements

Shadows And Promises

There are shadows that don’t match their shape,
Promises that were only ever made.
Not kept.

Waves come crawling back to the shore,
On their hands and knees and full of remorse,
They can’t go back.
Not any more.

One day, people will wake up and open their eyes,
Hollowness will fill up and chemistry will override,
And life will go on.

Maybe we’ll stop doing things whilst not really knowing why,
Stop sitting in the dark and spark a fire.
Maybe we’ll set light to our hearts and learn how to truly love.
Maybe…

And I’ll look out for you because, for a reason I don’t even know,
the perfect, hazy memory of you fills my soul.
And I need you.
I need you so bad.

I think of all the nights I’ll cry
because I don’t have the answer,
or the reason why.
And that destroys me.

I dream of shadows that don’t match their shape,
Promises that are only made,
Never kept.
And I need you.
I need you so bad.

~the ocean + me~

I honestly think that I have saltwater for blood, the rhythm of the tides for a heartbeat and the dance of the waves in my soul. There is never a moment when I am not wishing I was at sea.

I have an obsession – with the ocean.

I want to share this piece that I wrote as part of my application to a spoken word programme in London. I haven’t heard if I got in yet, but I’ll be sure to let you all know. Anyway, I believe it captures exactly how I feel about the ocean.

Ode To The Ocean 

You fill my empty solitude with salt and spray and sea,
The never-ending water and footprints on the beach,
Your rise and fall and ups and downs,
You’ve showed me all my dreams,
And thanks to you, I know exactly who I want to be.

The sense of freedom and of flying,
The immortal fantasy of never, ever dying,
Just gliding through the waves forever and eternity,
Ecstatically content and exactly where I want to be.

The mystery of your rugged beauty chained to age-old rhythm,
An ever-changing surface with no predictable pattern,
And far below that, in your depths, are things we’ll never see,
Wild waters that are both forever trapped and forever free.

You sure know how to transform yourself into a masterpiece,
Stunning sunsets, vivid colours melting into your blues and greens,
Epic storms that summon the winds from all edges of the seas,
Black skies, lightning strikes, moonlit clouds sitting on the breeze.

Your waves they tumble and they crash,
Then they rise again from the ash
Like life’s one, constant motion,
Like a phoenix from the flames – the motion can’t be broken.

The wind in my sails and the waves beneath me come from you,
This feeling inside me tells me what I need to do,
And it tells me just where I need to be.
With you, where I belong, out at sea.

Here’s an audio of me performing it – https://youtu.be/hwBGzQWqt3s

We’re moving into our new truck very soon (super excited about that) and I’ve been decorating my bed. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to having my own room and I’m putting a lot of effort into making it look aesthetic. It’s really just a reflection of me and who I am, but my main theme is the ocean. I’ve printed out tons of photos, quotes, lyrics and poetry about sailing, waves, tides, beaches and the sea – as well as making my own ocean neon sign! I haven’t got a photo of it finished, but here’s one of it half done.

It now has a big swirly wave underneath 🌊

Another thing about the ocean is all the memories it holds for me. The best days of my life have been spent in its company. It’s given me a purpose. I’ve met some of my best friends thanks to it. Ocean = sailing = 😍😍😍


That was a kinda random post about the ocean + me. Hope you enjoyed!

 

An Aesthetic To Reflect My Identity

What makes me, me? 

Inspired by Lonelymeme’s post, I decided to make an aesthetic to reflect on my own identity.

All of the aspects in this collage represent different parts of who I am – my dreams for the future, my desire for true friendship, my love of writing and books, fire and light, freedom, nature, wanting to change the world.

Now, I challenge you to do the same! Make an aesthetic to share and really think about what makes you, you???

Words That Burn + Poems About Identity And Two Big Announcements!

As part of my home school curriculum, I am doing a project called Words That Burn. It was launched by Amnesty International and is aimed at teaching young people about human rights, whilst encouraging them in their creative writing, mainly poetry. Learning at its best, in my view.

So, today I wanted to share a poem that we had to analyse in my project. It’s a really powerful and beautiful piece by spoken word artist Dean Atta, on the topic of identity. After that, we had to write our own poem, about our identity.

However, before we go into all of that exciting stuff, I have an important announcement to make! 🙂 You can now go vote for the nominees in Megan’s Part 1 of the Best Of 2017 Blogging Awards! I am literally jumping up and down right now because I WAS NOMINATED IN TWO CATEGORIES! Wow, I never expected that.  Anyway, go vote! And good luck! *proceeds to dance around the room*

Okay, so coming back to the poem. I present, I Come From by Dean Atta.

I come from shepherd’s pie and Sunday roast
Jerk chicken and stuffed vine leaves
I come from travelling through my taste buds but loving where I live

I come from a home that some would call broken
I come from D.I.Y. that never got done
I come from waiting by the phone for him to call

I come from waving the white flag to loneliness
I come from the rainbow flag and the union jack
I come from a British passport and an ever-ready suitcase

I come from jet fuel and fresh coconut water
I come from crossing oceans to find myself
I come from deep issues and shallow solutions

I come from a limited vocabulary but an unrestricted imagination
I come from a decent education and a marvellous mother
I come from being given permission to dream but choosing to wake up instead

I come from wherever I lay my head
I come from unanswered questions and unread books
Unnoticed effort and undelivered apologies and thanks

I come from who I trust and who I have left
I come from last year and last year and I don’t notice how I’ve changed
I come from looking in the mirror and looking online to find myself

I come from stories, myths, legends and folk tales
I come from lullabies and pop songs, Hip Hop and poetry
I come from griots, grandmothers and her-story tellers

I come from published words and strangers’ smiles
I come from my own pen but I see people torn apart like paper
Each a story or poem that never made it into a book.

I just love love love some of the lines in this, they’re so poignant. “waving the white flag to loneliness” “crossing oceans to find myself” “being given permission to dream, but choosing to wake up instead” I could go on and on and on. Seriously

Now comes the challenging part. I had to write a poem like his: an I come from….. poem. So I sat down and made a list of the things that have shaped my identity and then crafted them into this poem.

I Come From by Gracie Chick

I come from words springing from emptiness,

I come from the pages of a book, 

I come from misty mornings in my mind and conversations long into the night,

I come from the flames of a candle and the glowing embers of a campfire

I come from struggles and determination and an overwhelming desire for true friendship. 

I come from missing the sunrise and waiting all day for it to set.

I come from craving beauty in a world I want to change, 

I come from tears and discontentment, 

I come from dreaming big

I come from two amazing hearts that never lose faith. 

I come from wanting more than black and white

I come from music that no one else hears and stories that no one else sees,

or writes.

I come from a river of ink and a land of where the honey is too sticky and sweet and the milk soured long ago.

Hope that made sense to you guys! Now, the big question is……

Where do you come from???

Please answer in the comments, debating is more than welcome!

And now, time for the second big announcement. Some of you might remember reading my discussion post on makeup a few weeks ago. If so, you’ll probably recall that I included a section detailing the thoughts of many different teens throughout the blogosphere. The result was amazing and everyone really got into the discussion element of it. So, I was thinking I’d make this a regular thing. If you’re interested in contributing your opinions to these future discussion posts, please drop me an email at graciechick29@gmail.com

Then, whenever I need your thoughts, I’ll send out an email (probably monthly) and you can reply with your contributions. This is aimed mainly at teens, but if you’re older or younger and would still like to participate, feel free. Also, if you sign up, you don’t have to participate very time. If you’re ever too busy or just don’t want to contribute that’s totally fine.  Hoping to see lots of interest in this!

What did you think of Dean Atta’s Poem? What about mine? Complete this sentence: I come from…

Are you going to sign up to give your opinions in my future discussion posts?

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Perfectly Imperfect Tag ~ A Guest Post By Aqsa!

the-perfectly-imperfect-tag1 (1).png

Today I am honoured to host the creation of an inspiring new tag by my amazing blogging friend Aqsa . *fanfare* I asked her if she wanted to do a guest post and she came up with something as brilliant as this. Totally typical. Anyways, it is with great pleasure that I share with you The Perfectly Imperfect Tag! Here’s the link to it on Aqsa’s blog:

via The Perfectly Imperfect Tag: My Blogging Campaign/Featured Guest Post! – Aqsa Says What? — Aqsa Says What?

Expect my participation within the near future!

Wishing this tag the best of luck! Hope it spreads all around the blogosphere…..!

‘Snapshot’ (A Guest-Poem)

cropped-cropped-chaotic_overthinking_small1

The poem is a little special to me, you see, because, after years of writing, I wrote about how things are in my country, how reality has nothing to do but to lie there with glazed eyes, because everyone is waiting, and just waiting some more, for a change. It’s like walking through honey, and change is bitter and hard work; most people here simply curse it. The few who risk a try get trapped in this spider web of lethargy. Time stills. No one moves. Everything stays the same and hypocrisy prevails. 

These words are a perfect introduction to a stunning poem that I am about to share with you all. The author is Flaw Rainlight  Here is how she describes herself:

Hey there! I’m Flaw Rainlight and often write under the name of T. E. Pyrus. I live in the company of five wonderful cats and writing is a passion. I also learn and love classical dance and music. 

When I first tried my hand at writing, I was about six years old, exploring Dr. Seuss and R. L. Stevenson. That was probably soon after realized my love and awe of books, the way they preserve dreams and lives of people, real and imaginary, for decades and centuries. 

I remember thinking at one point, when I was bothered by the lack of fun things to read on a short vacation with my parents, that if I couldn’t find things to read, why couldn’t try writing them? 

And thus, my imagination, fueled first by boredom, and later by curiosity, passion and a desire to challenge myself further, spilled into little rhymes and incomplete stories. (I’m still mortified that my mother keeps a firm hold on those notebook pages of childish rambling.)

Eventually, encouraged and supported lovingly by friends, family and absolute strangers, I decided to bring my work out into this scary outside world. I began to explore spoken word and set up this blog as a medium to reach out to people like you, who care about writing, and write about caring. After all, thinkers and writers unfurl from the burning fire within to love the world and everything in it, and to witness its evolution that many simply walk past without another glance.

Wow. She certainly I’d talented. Here is her wonderfully deep and meaningful piece:
SNAPSHOT’
 Curiosity stares through tinted glasses
at railway tracks that glint darker in the sun;
the house crow that pecks on the ties in between
looks only slightly greyer than its shadow.
The diesel smoke and incense mist
lie faintly over red painted benches
that infrequently decorate the station platform.
Glass doored cabinets in miniature stalls
hold jars of hard candy, myriad pan filling
and sugared tamarind sweets to charm the mouth,
brightly coloured foil packets of biscuits and sweetened milk cake
lie sulking on the icebox, liberally filled
with ice cream and badam milk, mishti doi and lassi,
chilled soda in orange, brown, and green,
sealed bottles of water for people to please.
People and more people with stranger clothes and faces
scurry and stumble, then scramble and hurry
up the overbridge and down to platform number four
with sari and suitcase, toddler with a missing shoe.
Cartons of fresh iced fish to be sold a thousand miles away
settle comfortably on the floor of the parcel compartment,
painted blue, like all the thirty and one passenger coaches
tailing the rusty red engine that punctuates the chaos
with sleepy sighs and anxious whistles.
Footsteps and wheels run briskly here,
yet time runs ever slowly still
in rhythm with the ceaseless chant –
“cha~i coffee! co~ffee chai! cha~i coffee!…”

Beautiful Ideas + Determined Bloggers = One Word: Change (An Equation That Can Mean Only One Thing: Another Blogging Project)

20170116_monday_quote

I told you we’d celebrate with something special, didn’t I? Something fun and light-hearted, yet still staying true to the purpose of A Light In The Darkness?

I had a bit of a dilemma, but I really hope that you guys like what I’ve chosen. My blogging project A Passion For The World seemed to inspire so many people to think about how they could use the things they love to change the world. I saw the power of this creative project, the joy and the purpose it gave all my blogging friends. I want to give you another opportunity to feel this way. So……….

Without further ado, I present my NEW blogging project: Beautiful Ideas + Determined Bloggers = One Word: Change 

Here are the steps you follow, it’s simple.

  • Sign up for the project by emailing me at graciechick29@gmail.com If you like, you can invite a couple of other bloggers to participate by sharing the links to their blogs with me.

 

  • I will assign pairs, based in which bloggers I think will work well together.

 

  • You must then collaborate to come up with a campaign idea for using blogging to change the world. Note: if you don’t want to be in direct contact with other bloggers then I suggest you don’t sign up for this. Unless you can think of another way to do it…?

 

  • You can then present your campaign idea to me and I will launch the winning ones on my blog!

Tip:  They can be interactive (like an award) or they can be raising awareness of something, let your imagination flow like a waterfall…..!

I hope this gets you excited and inspired!

Now, there were a few of you who wanted a blog party and, I must admit, it sounds pretty fun. So gone on, leave a comment and join the party! Tell us about yourself, chat and interact, visit new blogs, have fun and SMILE!

 

Butterflies…

‘Butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies in your stomach.’ It’s such a cliche but it takes experiencing it to understand how true it really is. I take deep breaths and stare down at the salted caramel cookies my Dad bought especially for today. I realise that this is actually happening.

The gentle rocking of the boat isn’t making me feel any better, I keep glancing up the towpath, nervously watching, waiting. I expect to see them any minute. I don’t really know what they look like. All I know, (well, all you’re allowed to know) is that I am being filmed for a casting development project for a mainstream TV channel. A London production company is coming to film me and my life.

This has all happened so fast and, although I’m nervous, I feel an elated anticipation. Suddenly they’re here, carrying a huge camera and looking professional. This is it, Gracie…..this is it……

It all goes so amazingly, I enjoy every minute. Every minute spent giving my opinions on big modern life issues, being interviewed on challenging topics like politics, feminism, social media, materialism, relationships and social care. Every minute talking about my life and the things I’m passionate about, reading poetry and stories in a voice that seems more powerful now there’s someone here especially to hear it. Every minute spent being absolutely myself.

It was intense and my brain whirrs just thinking about it now. But I was in my element, I like a challenge. I like people who value the perspectives of young people on modern society. I loved thinking about the questions and carefully wording my replies. I didn’t find it easy, but I had the opportunity and I wanted to make the most of it.

All in all, I may be accepted to participate in this programme or I may not. I would love to be able to share my thoughts on life even further, but if not, I am just eternally grateful for this experience and I’m proud of myself for making it happen and getting this far.

Please leave me a message in the comments box below, I absolutely love to hear from you all. Thanks!