Play with attention
Decided to try poetry for the first time on my daily blog. It's no masterpiece, but I'm posting it anyway to break my perfectionism and fear of judgment. Creating 'bad art on purpose' resurrects that childlike desire to experiment and play.
With tea in hand, these words emerged:
Each sip, it fills me
with gratitude for its warmth
I bow to this simple pleasure and luxury
It permeates throughout my body
Charging me with aliveness
If only every moment,
we paid attention,
pay attention.
Play with attention
— N
Decided to try my hand at writing poetry today, which is a first for my daily blog. I like to think my contemplations are already a bit poetic itself, but that hardly earns me the title of poet.
Since this personal blog is for my expression, I'll go ahead and say it outright – I took a few minutes to write that poem and it's no masterpiece. I cringe at the thought of publicly posting 'bad art', but that becomes a compelling reason to post it anyway.
I have to break this sense of perfectionism and cleanse this fear of judgment and ridicule for simply being myself. Creating "bad art on purpose" could probably do everyone a little good. It lowers the stakes and resurrects that childlike desire to experiment and play for the sake of expression.
We could all use more expression. To my fellow friends who feel suppressed, who feel silenced, who feel unseen and unheard, I doubly encourage you to go make bad art on purpose.
And if you have no one to share it with or nowhere to publish it, feel free to share it with me.
We're in this together.
Thanks for being here.
Sincerely,
Nadine of the New Moon ♥