What I’m eating/drinking: I’ve been eating Kind bars in the flavor Dark Chocolate Mocha. It’s packed with whole grains and I can eat it as breakfast or as a snack any time of the day.
What I’m reading/watching: I just started Beauty and the Beast: Lost in a Book, but I’m already hooked. It is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, but I think it is more like a side story or a behind the scenes story of the original one we all know and love. I can’t wait to keep reading this one!
What I’m wearing/using: I’ve discovered the Maybelline Instant Age Rewind Eraser and I’m in love! It’s easy to apply, blends well, and gives me the coverage I want.
What I’m eating/drinking: I’ve been enjoying the Herbal Tea Sampler by Celestial Seasonings. My favorite is the peppermint flavor. The lemon zinger is perfect for when my pollen allergies are bothering me while the chamomile flavors are very calming and the sleepytime flavor is great when I want to be soothed to sleep.
What I’m reading/watching: I’ve only just started the ‘A Wrinkle in Time’ trilogy, but I’m already enjoying how fun and original it is. I can’t wait to find out more about the Murry family and Mrs. Whatsit!
What I’m wearing/using: I use Wet n Wild’s icon blush to contour my cheeks. Sometimes I also use it on my forehead, chin, and nose as a bronzer.
What I’m eating/drinking: I’ve been drinking more tea lately to help with my seasonal allergies. Traditional Medicinals’ Throat Coat tea doesn’t need any added sugar and is soothing to an itchy throat.
What I’m reading/watching: I’ve been enjoying trade novels by Debbie Macomber lately. Her novels pull you into the story, showcasing the relationships between realistic characters. I’m about halfway through The Reluctant Groom right now.
What I’m wearing/using: I’m loving First Aid Beauty’s ultra repair cream for dry skin. It can be used on the face or body. It’s super moisturizing and feels great on.
What I’m eating/drinking: Chobani greek yogurt (blueberry on the bottom) is perfect for breakfast or a quick snack. It’s healthy and delicious!
What I’m reading: The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey is full of science fiction (aliens), action and adventure (the end of civilization), and (young adult) romance. So far, the book is better than the movie (duh).
“Who would I call? I can’t even remember my name much less the numbers of complete strangers from images in my head.”
Melanie ate some fallen bananas that she hadn’t noticed earlier near the beach.Then she decided to go back and follow the path past the old cabin. At the end of it, she found a road, unmarked, but paved. It wasn’t busy.She might have seen one car go by if she had been paying attention.All she noticed was a sign.
She knew she recognized it, but she didn’t know what it meant. It looked like a normal yield sign, but in the middle there was a single black star. Underneath it the word Lunal was printed in block letters.
She looked up and down the road for signs of civilization. Seeing nothing but the horizon on the right and the left, she began to walk down the right side of the highway, hoping to find a car to pick her up or maybe just a phone booth. She laughed internally at the thought. Who would I call? I can’t even remember my name much less the numbers of complete strangers from images in my head.Yes, it was ludicrous, but still she trekked on.
As if fate was making a joke of her, a phone booth appeared as soon as she crossed the next hill on the road. Shrugging, she went up to it anyway. Once inside, she discovered a number etched into the thin wall of the booth. Smiling at what she was doing, she quickly dropped in the change she found on the floor of the booth and dialed the number.
“Hello,” a deep male voice answered.
“Hi. Um, this is…uh…Melanie.”
“Yes, we’ve been expecting your call,” he said pleasantly.
Shocked and frightened, she let go of the receiver.She ran off, a trail of dust swirling out behind her.
“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.”-Robert Frost
I’ve been writing poetry since I was 14. One of the first poems I remember writing was in gifted class in 8th grade. I wrote a poem using Georgia History facts by making every line rhyme. I continued writing poetry in high school: most of the poems were similar to worship songs. Later on, I wrote them to help me work out feelings after hard break ups or to get through other difficult times in my life.
Poetry has been there with me through it all. That is why I love writing it so much. Constructing phrases, rhythmic or rhyming, helps me to work through my emotions and experiences. I can dive deeper into my problems in a beautiful way as I place all my pain on paper (or a document).
I wrote ‘Emotions’ as an expression of the various feelings we all experience: anxiety, peace, apathy, passion, jealousy, contentment, despair, and joy. I hope it reminds others that they are not the only ones to ride the roller coaster of life. That everyone rides its many highs and lows and holds on tightly for every unexpected twist and turn. I hope it reveals that there is beauty and purpose in the pain and that joy is made sweeter after a mountain of difficulties.
Here’s an excerpt from ‘Emotions’, the poem ‘Passion’:
I am alive
Or at least that’s how I feel
Pulsating with energy I didn’t know existed
My eyes widen at the thought of doing what I love
I’m surfing on an endless surge of emotion
The ocean is full of ebbing waves
Carrying me on a crystal sea of happiness
I can’t be still, so I move swiftly with grace
Gliding through the waters with joy
As pure ecstasy joins me
We are whipped by powerful winds
But we remain undeterred
Even the shore is glistening as we reach it
I feel peaceful knowing I can do it again tomorrow
My heart is full of unexplored depths
Its cadence is mesmerizing
I dance to its rhythmic beat
To know I’m truly alive.
My friend Brandon enjoys writing poetry, too. He wrote an in-depth review for ‘Emotions’ that I’d like to share with you. You can follow him on twitter here: @bardspell and read his writing here: http://bardspell.blogspot.com/.
“‘Emotions’ by Erin Bower is a collection of verse on the ruminations of a daydreaming introvert’s experiences with self in relation to her own personal universe. It contains eight poems that explore the range of emotions the author experiences, alternating between the painful to the pleasant in couplets through the octave. The collection is a fascinating look at how someone, trapped inside of themselves, unable to express their feelings to fellow human beings in conversational language, expresses those feelings to the unknown through the medium of poetry.
The apparent daydreaming nature of the author is shown through the fact that she generally eschews concrete imagery in favor of what seems to be dream symbolism and the archetypal. In “Anxiety,” the author’s haunting line,
“Worries tumble out of me like dangerous flames…”
is reminiscent of someone who associates the danger of fire with panic, a primal fear, showing the author to be connected with the collective unconscious. It is intriguing how, although most people I know in reality become anxious through distorted perception of their security, the author draws upon a memory, perhaps her own from childhood, or perhaps from the deeper part of the mind that reaches back to ancestral fears. And I find this part of the essence of being a dreamer.
Other poems utilize similar imagery. “Passion,” the longest in the collection, I imagine represents the most important emotion to the author. She utilizes the ocean as a metaphor, again archetypal, yet somewhat more concrete. She associates the blissful state of being near to the sea as an invoking of that great passion within her to simply exist. The experience of reading this poem was like being inside the head of one who greatly desires to be at the beach while facing the drudgery of everyday existence, something we can all relate to. I imagine the author at work, miserable, hearing endless wave upon wave in her mind, and then suddenly being quickened to complete her duties with vigor. It is endearing.
I connected most with the author in her poem “Apathy.” It was soul crushing, utilizing the metaphor of death. Death, probably the most concrete of all human experience, is again treated as dreamlike. No person in particular dies, except for the author in her day to day experience of agonizing discontent. There are words here which stick inside of my head and haunt me: “My soul is a pit of nothing / I am dead inside .” I think back to my own experiences with the Abyss talked about by so many mystics and feel the author has experienced this “dark night of the soul” as well. I feel close to her through the shared experience of sinking into the void, the darkest days of my life, and I imagine her experiences with the same sinking into the fabric which annihilates the self and ego.
I would recommend “Emotions” to anyone, whether they be an introvert or extrovert. For introverts, it is soothing to know that there are others out there that experience the same feelings that you do, which is a sort of bonding unavailable to those who find it difficult to communicate. For extroverts, it is a glimpse into the lives of those you see everyday, so quiet and inhibited, whom you fail to understand through your day to day experiences with them. All in all, though this collection bears a roughness inherent in any first publication, I will revisit it again and again, and look forward to reading more of the author’s work in the future.”
“Melanie slept fitfully as flashes of memories continued in her dreams. Most of them involved her mystery man who piqued her curiosity and frustration simultaneously.”
After gaining control of herself, she realized, “My name is Melanie…..He could have been talking to someone else.” But somehow the name resonated within her. “Maybe I’ll call myself that until I figure out who I really am.”
Then she decided to set up camp at the beach. “It’s where I woke up,” she thought. “So, I better stay here; it might be important.”
It was easy enough for her to start a fire. “I must have been a Girl Scout growing up,” she laughed bitterly to herself. After a supper of the last of the blackberries, she lay down beside the warm flames. Sighing, she fell asleep to the now surprisingly soothing sound of the ocean with a blanket of stars as her only covering.
Melanie slept fitfully as flashes of memories continued in her dreams. Most of them involved her mystery man who piqued her curiosity and frustration simultaneously. In the last one before she awoke, she was laying in pain in a hospital.“I’m right here,” the man spoke while holding her hand.
She woke up with a start, sweaty and breathless. “I have to get out of here!” she thought. But she didn’t know where she was going or how to get there. “I’ll find a way,” she said to the ocean. Determined, she ignored her hunger and started traveling down the path through the trees.
After a few hours, without fruit; either in a meal or in finding a way out of the forest, Melanie sat down to rest. Suddenly seeing a clearing a few feet ahead, she got up and walked towards it. As the trees parted, a cabin came into view. With hopes for food and someone to converse with, she walked closer and knocked on the door. “Foolishness; there’s no one here.” The cabin had obviously not been inhabited for some time. The wood in it was rotten and the hinge on the door was rusted. Even so, she pulled the door open with a little effort.
Inside was what one would usually find in an old cabin masquerading as a set for a pioneer TV show: old pots and pans in the kitchen and an old bed and trunk in the common room. Not surprisingly, she tried to open the trunk. “Of course it’s locked,” she thought begrudgingly. Although, she thought it odd that it didn’t fit in with the rest of the cabin. “It looks almost new,” she thought astonished. Her stomach rumbled and decided for her that she was done with discoveries for the day. Sighing, she left the cabin as it was and headed back into the forest to find some food.
“Her life seemed to go on just like the waters reaching out to the shore over and over. It was just as pointless.”
Sunlight washed over Melanie’s face. She winced and turned over. Not having yet acquired the taste for sand, she got up and brushed herself off. The redundant sound of the waves crashing was more haunting to her today. Her life seemed to go on just like the waters reaching out to the shore over and over. It was just as pointless. “Am I glad to be alive?” she asked herself in her thoughts. “Yes, but it would help if I knew something!” Frustrated and hungry, she escaped from the beach and went back amongst the trees to look for food. Finding a blackberry patch, she indulged herself swiftly. Satisfied, but thirsty, she decided to go further into the brush to find water and escape from the oceanic sounds.
After pummeling through the green maze for an hour, she began to hear something other than the crunch of her feet on the forest floor. It was the sound of moving water! Running, or her version of it, she scurried weakly to the clearing on the left. Melanie knelt down, practically falling on purpose to scoop up the clear water. She lifted her gaze after having a fair share.
“Beautiful,” she said aloud softly. There was a clear waterfall surrounded by rocky boulders. Resting at the bottom of the sparkling water were myriads of smooth stones. She picked up an especially flat one and skipped it on the deepest part of the waters. Gasping, she realized the action was somehow significant. She closed her eyes and let the movement trigger her memory.
At some point in the past, she was in a lake; knee-deep wearing a green retro style bathing suit. A man came behind her, guiding her hand as he taught her how to skip a rock. The waterfall sounds in the memory and the sounds in the present combined until she opened her eyes.
She didn’t think it was this place that she recalled, but somewhere similar. Closing her eyes again, she focused on the memory of the man’s face. He had a handsome face, but not clean-shaven. Tall, with broad shoulders and a steady chin that jutted out slightly, he was someone who could intimidate. But his eyes, surprisingly green yet hazel at the same time, were gentle and smiling. Melanie gasped audibly. Her body had reacted from the memory of this mystery man. She found herself smiling at the butterflies and warmth coming from her soul. Then confusion washed over her as her eyebrows pulled together. Either to clear her head or to wash the sand off, she dove suddenly into the deep waters near the waterfall.
After swimming deep to amuse herself with the sight of the various rocks, she came up for air and swam to the edge. Melanie pulled her lean body up and out, her clothing sticking to it as her long golden blonde hair dripped around her. Peering back into the clear water as if it was a mirror, she untangled her hair with her fingers. A young woman of around 25 looked back at her with round blue eyes and lips shaped in a bow. She recognized her face, but she didn’t know who she was, where she was from, or why she was here. It was an unsettling feeling.
All of a sudden, the man from her memories appeared in the water beside her reflection and said, “Melanie, don’t worry. We’re in this thing together.” In shock, with wide open eyes, she ran all the way back to the beach without thinking about what she was doing. When she arrived, panting with hands on her knees, she realized a little late that it had just been another memory. Or so she thought.