on poetry

the older I get (hold your snickers), the more I realize the importance of honesty in one's craft...the artists (whether filmmakers, musicians, or writers) that I'm inspired by are all people who write with their hearts on their sleeves...not in the terribly cheesy way, but in the sense that they are self-aware and not afraid of confronting their own thoughts and feelings.

I've been thinking about my own writing as well...and I've also come to realize that practice is an essential part of being a good writer. Scribbling down odd thoughts here and there, and not letting laziness get in the way...=) I think my dad still secretly wants me to write for a living (in one form or another), but I don't know...I simply don't have the clairvoyance to know exactly what I want to do.

Time is inevitably precious...I'm finding it increasingly important to love carefully (but generously) and to love well.

I wrote some more poetry yesterday, but didn't want to share it all...so I'll just include a short excerpt. It came to me as I passed by a coffee shop yesterday.=)

What the heart desires
Are the moments that go unappreciated in time
Of stolen bites of food
The sometimes reluctant “Yes, that looks just fine”
And the foolish disagreements along the way...