Creativity Exercise: Recession Haiku

I know, I know. Regular CI readers are starting to think I'm haiku-crazed. Well, have no fear. This isn't my exercise -- it's from the Kansas City Star. The Star's business desk is looking for haikus about the recession, such as this gem from my buddy Chris Kuehl, which ran in the Star on Wednesday:

Distant tunnel light
Signals ending of despair
Might be a train though

Ah, yes. The old 5-7-5. Send your recession haikus to levings@kcstar.com ... and, of course, you can post them here!

Creativity Tips: Can You Think at Midnight?

Do you do your best creative work at midnight? I don't. But that's when I worked on the posts for the week -- and that's why you saw two posts yesterday. I was tired. I didn't proofread the posting dates.

Today's tip? Know your limits. And respect them.

Creativity Exercise: This One's a Dandy!

1. Get out a clean sheet of paper.
2. Write the word dandelion.
3. Describe the dandelion, or ...
4. Come up with a new name for it!

Creative Inspiration: Grace Paley

Grace Paley's last book, Fidelity, is a beautiful collection on aging and love and loss. In one poem about her sister, she noted: The word dead is correct/but inappropriate. That line now applies to Paley, who died in 2007.

Her "Anti-Love Poem" presents a word-perfect first line:
Sometimes you don't want to love the person you love

The exactly right words, in the exactly right order. How gorgeous.

P.S. In my online search for more on Paley, I landed on a great list of literary links. Enjoy!

Creativity Tips: Start Fresh

Yoga instructor Shanna Haun said something at a 7 a.m. Saturday class that made my entire weekend happier -- and while I may not remember the words exactly right, I do remember the sentiment: Let go of your expectations of perfection.

Isn't that wonderful? This week, listen to Shanna. Let go.

P.S. That's Shanna in the photo.
P.P.S. Yes, I made it to a 7 a.m. class. I was at a retreat, so I was in a different frame of mind. Now I'm trying to keep that retreat mode going.
P.P.P.S. Why do we call it a "retreat" when it helps us move forward?

Friday Fun: Sleepless in Suburbia

I don't often publish my own poems here, but ... this one was a big hit with my Facebook friends. Here's to a great weekend, complete with sleep!

Sleepless in Suburbia
by Jan Sokoloff Harness, ©2009

Now I lay me down to toss.
I pray the Lord the night’s not lost.
Let me sleep just one night through
And I will give my soul to you.

But there’s no sleeping anymore.
All hope of REM is out the door.
It doesn’t help to hear that I’m
A woman slipping past my prime.

I am hot and then I’m cold.
This could be menopause, I’m told.
I can’t think if I can’t sleep.
And I refuse to count damn sheep.

I flip my pillow over, twice.
It’s cool, it’s hot, I’m cold as ice.
I flip my pillow once again.
Now I want a freakin’ fan.

My friends all swear that I will sweat
I do not sweat, at least not yet.
I am an emotional basket case.
No tears, but don’t get in my face.

Now I lay me down to fret.
If I sweat, I’ll get all wet.
If I get wet, I’ll have to change.
Oh, Lord, maybe I’m deranged.

Next to me my husband snores
While I obsess on undone chores.
He sleeps all night. I toss. I turn.
He sleeps just fine. I freeze. I burn.

Now I lay me down to sigh.
If I don’t sleep, I think I’ll die.
If I don’t die, I just might kill.
Please get me a sleeping pill.

Site Seeing: This is Your Mind on Books

Bioephemera has an interesting take on a topic near and dear to my heart: What happens when a reader stops reading?

The blog is the brainchild of biologist and artist Jessica Palmer, and the cool photo is from Rag & Bone.

P.S. Thanks to Steve for the idea!