Out of the many things and matters ,
That dwell in the background of my heed ,
Is Creativity,
Which is a derivative word from
Create,
Creative people are creators !
Yet not all creations are equal , are they?
I studied art, many forms of art - Music , English speaking, English Literature, Sports ( fitness training /Aikido/ Karate) - yet not a single time I continued my studies to the well sought after " degree " which defines human beings today .
I consider then myself a self taught poet and artist, for the best of my teachers ( whom by no means I am comparing myself to ) have their bodies died long ago, -yet their works forever will bloom - and the best of my classes are the ones which I attend alone with their works of extreme generosity, sublime beauty, and unfortunately a big misunderstood value.
Now, thank you to all who read ( past tense) and read ( present tense) what I wrote and write , yet this time I'm breaking the bars of rhymes and syllables and structures, and setting my words free with their original relative beauty.
I painted once, as a child, and I loved the world of colours, but I found it difficult to communicate that world with whom around , difficult and quite financially expensive so I dropped the brush , forgot about it around 20 years!
Years later, I took a pen, and wrote Arabic poetry and prose , I loved the world of words, yet I couldn't touch the ecstasy of creativity that was calling me in an ambiguous way.
After reading much, and pondering the path of Lebanese poets, one man named Gobran Khalil Gobran ( known in english as Gibran Kahlil Gibran ) connected with me through his work, and introduced to me the english beautiful literary world.
Gobran, and his influencers , mainly William blake, took me to another level, I got then introduced to Shakespeare, Dante, and the romantics, mainly Coleridge and Wordsworth.
I started a shift in my writing style, and I composed fixed rhymed poetry as sonnets ( following Shakespearean structure) and Terza Rimas ( following Dante Alighieri) , and surely the romantic english style.
I always found difficulties in publishing, for the beauty that shines impenetrable in my eyes was not an appeal to others , I self published a book in Lebanon, ( because no publishing house accepted my manuscript) , yet again, not a single library accepted to help me selling my book.
Recently, I started painting again, now with a more mature and poetic approach.
At times my colours seem to feed my words,
Other times my words feed my colours,
That's a fair family to live with,
Why am I sharing this?
For those who are still reading, thank you,
I am sharing this , in August ( and I don't usually write in August, for the heat and humidity in this region kill my meditative imagination) , 3 days after the memorial day of August the fourth ( Beirut blast : the ripe fruit of corruption) and one day before the memorial day of my father's death , to set a time , a specific one, in which a shift in my creativity will be observed.
My Professors, at the English Literature class, always despised my long phrases, yet -as you can clearly see- I much love them, as they keep warm and alert ( in my opinion) the conversation between the writer and the reader ( and that conversation may take place at a time when the writer is no more ) .
That's it, a little conversation over a cup of coffee, and it's not one-sided, I'll keep on commenting ( I will not turn off the comment section) , if anyone has something to say by writing ( whether a positive one - which I definitely enjoy - or a negative one - which I honestly wait for , and seek - or maybe a personal impression, as a critic told the world about Claude Monet work, the sunrise )
Thanks for reading
