Saturday, November 29, 2014

                                                                                                                                                                                                
 The current environment of writing
Is it so much different now?
G.E.Graves

Writing, in its many forms, is intended to capture one’s imagination. The telling of one’s essence, the sharing in verse is primal. Consider prehistoric cave paintings. They, without any words, share a dramatic event, an event possessing a profound effect upon their lives. Writing today is much the same as those ancient picture-glyphs. It remains an attempt to express the inexpressible in words.
This, in one way or another, is what all writing strives to accomplish. Writing is an attempt at taking what we all possess inside and try tapping into the reader’s soul, into their experiences, in a way that truly strikes a chord. All this may sound easy, and actually it is, but it is not as clear-cut as it seems.
There are many different people with vastly different experiences, but there are commonalities. We all live, breathe, love, hate, and desire, these tie the bind us all together. Humanity, from its earliest days, has found ways of communicating these feelings, these emotions to others. Now though, with invent of written language, we can express these sentiments in a consistent and considered way. This does not remove the primal, the primitive, or the brute power of our expressions. In many ways, it enhances how we articulate.
This is writing, the ability to compress intense emotion and expressive thought into words that resonate with others. Much like the cave paintings, writing strives to produce, combine, and add to our experiences and understandings of the world.
Many other forces have played a part in how literature has evolved. Moving forward, within the constraints of society, writing has been shaped by the economics of our culture into a tool. Filtered through a publisher, words have become well crafted into what is deemed quality. Unfortunately, in many cases, what is published is designed to fit a certain target, a certain ambition. Of course this deliberate control is not productive. It leads to self-serving goals that are profit, political, or idealistically driven. Only free expression, free thinking, can advance the cause of creativity. Trying to fit expression to any given arena hinders what we direly crave. Yet, this is the world of traditional publishing. Where they, the publisher, for reasons all their own, decide what will be put to press.
Now, with the computer age, print on demand, and self-publishing authors, the art of writing may seem to have changed, but it has not. All that has changed is the ability to publish without imposed constraints. It has been said, at least in the beginning, that this newly formed platform of writing could be considered of poor quality. However, who is to judge quality? It is, as it should be, the readers that decide what is worthy writing.
Writing continues to be an expression, a way to put forth ideas for others to enjoy and appreciate; much like the cave paintings of the past. However, advancements have been made. Improvements in the method of sharing, transmitting, may have changed, but not the actual purpose for writing.

We now live in a world lost in the buzz of content everywhere. However, is it that different from our primitive relatives? Let us keep in mind that essentially nothing has changed, except the methods of communications. Now, as before, the ability to express is the true essence of creativeness. 

Friday, November 28, 2014

Besieged by pelting rain, filled with trepidation from the crashing and flashing of tormented skies, our intrepid crusaders move forward into the undisclosed wilderness. Flowing maze like before this most dangerous of places, bending and pressing to unknown forces, grasses glisten in the moonlight. Seeming to glow between each emergence of the growing storm, standing out eerily in the impending darkness, the barren branches of a great tree reach up toward the night. 
Fearlessly and fearfully looking into the darkness, knowing that the way back is shut, our crusaders press forward. With little regard to consequences, with no alternative other than facing the unknown, our gallant crew discovers it’s only through personal experiences that any true understanding may be found.
It’s not that little Binder is a brave or strong mouse. However, events have forced him to go beyond anything previously thought possible. Reaching out into the unknown, he finds is the true essence of life and living. There are no words for such truths, words often cloud their meaning. However, when opening one’s self to the inexplicable, their substance can magically be felt. With a peculiar combination of fear and excitement, he prepares to face his personal unspoken truth.
There is little that is more exciting, than to witness the unbelievable become believable. When one takes up sword and shield, risking life for another, it truly becomes a sight to behold. This and more we’ll see, as our fearless crusaders, battling adversity, forge new and rebuild forgotten friendships in the wilderness.
Loyalty and comradeship can have vastly different meanings, however neither should go unappreciated.

Come join The Crusaders of Golanthia, as they learn that life is much more than simple continuance.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Forever

Days of flowers
Displaying to every view
Pass the summer with a smile
Fresh and oh so new

Now with all to see
Raised to some new sight
We see the flowering of our rose
Lost in summers lope

Is thy bloom removed?

So the passing of the night
Moon light beams remorse
As the days we wasted for
Are and then no more

Alas and now to see
Lost within our sight
We sadly gain
What was so lost before

Forever is a time
Promoting in new ways
Clear vision of a summer’s day

That holds us in its gleam

G.E.Graves
Oh for wrenched days
So grand and yet so new
I find myself upon my way
Lost within thoughts of you

Fresh the image inside my mind
Replace this crowning life
With sadly missed and forgotten tales
Shining with your light

So with much ado
Midnight had its way
I wait the coming light of day

Missing only you

G.E.Graves

Monday, February 17, 2014

To Thou

Bellowing clouds adrift
Lazily cross the sky
And with so much ado
Display before my eyes

With the air so fresh
Sunlight casts so warm
Thoughts begin to form
Against my white blue mind

In the remote horizon
Growing black through time
Amid a distant rumble
Shadows spread across the sky

Flashing now with light
Resounding with such a fright
Thoughts begin to wonder
Why you across my mind

Now the blue is gone
The clouds no longer white
Thoughts begin to marvel
At your fresh bright light

G.E.Graves
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