tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34374930296280980212024-02-22T10:18:00.874-08:00Thoughtless Thoughts of Thinking ThoughtfullyElizabeth Azpurua's Creative Writing BlogElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-48323632475260718292016-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:002016-01-01T00:00:17.118-08:00Loading 2016.....Wow, another year....<br />
I always feel like I never accomplish all the things I want to and that life continues to throw curve balls my direction.<br />
It's funny how he first few days of January always start off with purpose and hope, but we quickly fall back into routine.<br />
Last January was rather disappointing for me, so I am hopeful that this year can start in a far better way.Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-1652111073018939562015-12-12T10:00:00.000-08:002015-12-12T10:00:02.865-08:00Anyone like Christmas Poetry?Or Yule poetry? Winter Poetry? How about a bunch of seasonal poems?<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00UCNHFXA?*Version*=1&*entries*=0" target="_blank">Here You Go... Season of Poetry</a><br />
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I enjoy writing poems for the different seasons!!Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-72462451281581120972015-09-18T05:48:00.001-07:002015-09-18T05:48:59.225-07:00Hindsight<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">Living in a technological age is difficult. Everything is there to read, re-read, analyze after the fact and see with stark clarity how blind we had been. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">We make of our past, oft times, a version we presumed it was because during what was then the present, we didn't see what was actually going on.</p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">Perception is dangerous, because many factors change it. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">Only through hindsight, can we have true clarity, and with the ability to have what is said forever saved to refer to, we can know of a surety that in moments of our past, we were idiots. </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">There is no "that wasn't what was said" when many conversations can be saved.</p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; font-family: Helvetica;">Why must hindsight be the truest form of sight when moving forward is not done by looking back?</p>Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-23504351264480727692015-04-29T12:09:00.003-07:002015-04-29T12:09:36.958-07:00A Deal for BeltaneHere's a fun special offer for May Day!<br />
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Have a blessed Beltane everyone! <3<br />
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Elizabeth Azpurua <3 </div>
Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-69482449969553971892015-03-03T10:37:00.001-08:002015-03-03T10:37:17.377-08:00Elegy of Metaphors is Currently FREE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thanks for all the support. I appreciate it when people tell me my poems helped them in some way!</div>
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Elizabeth Azpurua</div>
Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-53951486075355276552015-02-06T12:21:00.002-08:002015-02-06T12:21:27.806-08:00Imagination<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
If we do not
cultivate the imagination in children, we stifle their ability to see beyond
the present; we stunt their inward growth with limitations and prevent their
minds from exploring new possibilities that have yet to be thought up. It’s a
part of our responsibility to treasure the minds of those that are wide open
and help them become who they are destined to be. Imagination leads to the
dream that fuels the flame of invention. Imagination is the spark that ignites
the fire of discovery. Imagination encompasses everything, limitless, far
reaching and powerful. There’s nothing more potent than a child with a dream.</div>
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~ Elizabeth Azpurua</div>
Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-31901012447480504122015-01-25T13:29:00.001-08:002015-01-25T13:30:00.669-08:00Another New Book: BrokenSo, my newest poetry ebook is out! Get "Broken" by Elizabeth Azpurua<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SP4CN3A">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SP4CN3A</a><br />
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Hope you enjoy it!!<br />
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ElizabethElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-84747725118265775222015-01-16T14:37:00.002-08:002015-01-16T14:37:24.187-08:00A Love of Flames and Ashes<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
A
Love of Flames and Ashes</div>
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My dearest
Woodstove,</div>
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I wish to tell you
of my profound love for you and how blessed I consider myself to have become
acquainted with you. </div>
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For many months I
struggled through the harsh winters without your warmth as I feared wind, snowstorms
and the tragedy of frozen pipes. I yearned for a means of keeping warm when the
power would go out or when the wind sent chills down my spine in this lonely
attic space.</div>
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I had planned for
you a happy home; you see, I even bought the tiles months in advance. I knew
you would come into my life and grace me with your warmth someday, but I never
could have imagined just how fiery you would be. You set my bones on fire! No,
not literally – imagine such a thing?
Yet, you do have a way of warming me straight down to my core.</div>
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I remember the day
I met you like it was yesterday. There was a chill in the October air when they
unloaded you off the truck and I saw the first glimpse of your cast iron sides
and lovely glass door. You were such a heavy thing to move and I feared you’d
just fall right through the floor of my attic space. I admit, my dearest, I
feared for us both.</div>
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There was a
considerable effort put into getting you into the house and up the attic steps
and even more considerable effort went into placing you in the exact center of
the tiled space. I couldn’t have you just an inch off center! No, for you my
dearest, only perfection would do.</div>
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As I had stood
there admiring your beauty I began envisioning all the fires I would build in
you. I knew I mustn’t get ahead of myself though; I still had to get the
chimney pipes. You love your chimney pipes, don’t you? I purchased them
especially to fit you and provide the best means of smoke to escape from you. I
am rather fond of the job we did. Your chimney pipes look lovely and work
beautifully. Wouldn’t you agree?</div>
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Now, my dear, I
must tell you of the first fire. Oh, now don’t blush! I truly found it to be a
beautiful little fire. I know we had much to learn at that time of how best to
build a fire for you, but I’d say by now we’ve gotten the hang of it. We went
from small fires we must cradle and tend to gently and cautiously to raging
fires stacked perfectly for the best heat consumption. Your catalytic converter
loves your fires now, doesn’t it? We've sure learned a lot.</div>
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I love how I can
come home and find a nice bed of coals waiting for the perfect logs. The logs
catch easily and I can sit and simply gaze at all your flaming glory. I find
such magnificent beauty in your flames as they dance and change from yellow, to
orange and finally to blue. The bluest flames burn so hot and intense filling
your insides with an artful masterpiece of color. </div>
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If I ever think
back to the days before you’ve come into my life, I recall high electric bills
and cold. I am surely uncertain how I have made it this long without you. I
never want to go another winter without your warmth spreading through my attic
space. I never want to greet another cold, dreary morning without your lovely
coals. </div>
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I get such
pleasure from scooping your ashes out. I feel like Cinderella as I shovel them
into the ash pot. It’s not a chore at all, my dear. It’s an honor to rid you of
the remnants of the logs that burned like our love.</div>
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You are a treasure
in my life. I think you are the loveliest woodstove anyone could ask for. I
feel blissfully delighted to walk past you every day and stop to warm my hands.
I hope we are never parted from each other. I can’t imagine a life without you!
If I must move, you must come with me and never warm another’s home but mine.
Promise me this: that our love will continue burning on all the cold and dreary
winter nights. </div>
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I love you, my
dearest woodstove. You are the warmth that I set my sight upon each day I
escape the cold.</div>
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With all the love
I possess,</div>
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Your Fiery Lover</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Elizabeth Azpurua </div>
Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-75919901959719185142014-11-01T14:37:00.000-07:002014-11-01T14:37:00.302-07:00So, want a book??You know you want some books.........<br />
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go to <a href="http://www.elizabethazpurua.com/">http://www.elizabethazpurua.com</a> </div>
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I've got links to all three books on there!</div>
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Thanks!</div>
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Also, I love reviews!!</div>
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Seriously, I love reviews a lot!!</div>
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Elizabeth Azpurua</div>
<br />Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-81753097342912151922014-10-28T14:13:00.003-07:002014-10-28T14:13:39.972-07:00Elegy of Metaphors is Out!Buy my newest book of poetry here: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O845VN0">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00O845VN0</a><br />
<br />
Elegy of Metaphors has a lot of my unique poetry and odd analogies - hopefully, you enjoy it!<br />
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Elizabeth AzpuruaElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-5600532606175667252014-09-19T15:00:00.000-07:002014-09-19T15:00:04.316-07:00Author Elizabeth AzpuruaOK, so I know I've not posted much "creative writing" here these days, but I've been saving short story snippets and ideas for publishing.<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethazpurua">http://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethazpurua</a><br />
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I'm excited for being able to make money while doing what I love - but, I always said I wouldn't worry about the money because I have to write.<br />
I HAVE to.<br />
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It's very important to me that I can express my emotions through writing poetry.<br />
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<a href="http://poetry-lapisfey.blogspot.com/">http://poetry-lapisfey.blogspot.com</a><br />
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It's also very important that I am able to have a creative outlet for stories. I am able to let go and delve into characters vastly different from who I am. For instance, Abigail...<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NHTM7CK">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NHTM7CK</a><br />
She is a very manipulative, creepy, self satisfying individual. I might be creepy, but I'm never manipulative or self satisfying - or even selfish - yet, it's always an adventure to become another character for a book.<br />
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Then, there's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MYIA8DA">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MYIA8DA</a> where I am able to give you a glimpse into my soul.<br />
Not all of my poems are about me or based off of something that happened to me; they are all based off of something that happened to someone I love, or something someone I love has been through. My poetry isn't where I sit down to write what sounds good. No; I sit down and I bleed words. I feel until all the "feels" that I am feeling overflow.<br />
I truly hope people are touched by some of what I write.<br />
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Elizabeth AzpuruaElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-72403477742379174542014-09-13T08:01:00.003-07:002014-09-13T08:01:46.031-07:00Abigail by Elizabeth Azpurua<span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When Abigail is caught after killing a fellow school student, the United States Government holds her prisoner in the hopes of her leading them to more vampires. Offered a chance of freedom and a new life, she agrees to lead them to the vampire who Turned her, but Abigail is a cunning, manipulative vampire, wanting only one thing: to kill. Her captor’s complacency will expose them to truth of what it means to be in the presence of vampires. They always lust for blood, and Abigail has no qualms about getting what she wants.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">For More: </span><span style="font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NHTM7CK">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NHTM7CK</a> to read the rest!!</span>Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-61124402442048039922014-09-05T09:39:00.003-07:002014-09-05T09:40:47.596-07:00Poems from The Sky and Sea Are Lovers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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By Elizabeth Azpurua</div>
<br />Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-65234721227488318282014-08-24T16:02:00.002-07:002014-08-24T16:02:23.469-07:00"The Sky and Sea Are Lovers" is Out!!FINALLY!! I have my book of poetry on sale on Amazon!!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MYIA8DA">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MYIA8DA</a><br />
<br />
Check it out, reviews and feedback are welcome!!<br />
<br />
Elizabeth AzpuruaElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-63402212607034604982014-05-27T08:40:00.000-07:002014-05-27T08:40:06.174-07:00Let Them Eat Cake, Or Ice Cream, Or BothPreston sat beside Cassidy and exclaimed, "I just love cake so much. I can't get enough of it."<br />
She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, we know how much you love cake."<br />
Joan giggled, "I love cake, too, Cassidy. I wish you did."<br />
Cassidy squirmed, "Oh come on, you know I like ice cream instead."<br />
The all turned as Luke came into the cafe with Bryce. Luke beamed at them, "Hey, I didn't know you guys were here!"<br />
Joan gestures for them to sit down, "There's still room. Have a seat."<br />
Both of them squeezed around the small round table and the waitress came over asking, "What can I get for you?"<br />
Luke quickly responded, "We both want ice cream."<br />
She smiled, "OK, well, if that's what you want....I guess you can have it." She glanced around the room, "You sure?"<br />
Bryce nodded, "Absolutely positive."<br />
She gave another nervous glance and went to the kitchen area.<br />
They all heard the sound of three chairs behind them scrape across the floor as two men came to stand near their table while a stern looking woman stood farther off, her arms crossed shaking her head over and over.<br />
"So, ya like ice cream?" The tallest of the men growled at them.<br />
Luke shrugged, "Yeah."<br />
Cassidy quietly added, "I like ice cream, too. What's wrong?"<br />
Taller man continued, "It's an abomination to like ice cream, boy."<br />
Bryce tensed, "We can like whatever we want. It has nothing to do with you."<br />
"I believe it does. See, you comin' in here shows you think you can do whatever you want."<br />
"We can." Bryce sat up straighter, "We live in a free country."<br />
"Look old man," Joan stood, "I don't know what your problem is, but you need to back the hell up. We can like whatever we want to like. I happen to like cake, just like you. Got a problem with it?"<br />
The woman behind them gasped, "Charles, let's go. I can't be in this establishment anymore." She turned and left, pausing to glare through the glass of the cafe at their small table.<br />
Preston stood, "Look Charles," he nodded at the shorter man, "sir, none of us want trouble, we came to enjoy ourselves, not be made to feel like we're evil."<br />
"But ya are. All of you." He spit towards Luke's sandals and walked out leaving a stunned cafe behind.<br />
Luke took Bryce's hand, "I'm sorry."<br />
Preston glared at everyone who had sat so quietly through their altercation, wondering who else would have something to say.<br />
Cassidy hugged Luke, "Let's go home you guys. You can come to my place."<br />
They all left the cafe and the waitress apologized as soon as the doors closed. "I'm sorry you all had to witness that."<br />
In the quiet that followed, a small boy asked, "What's wrong with liking ice cream? I like ice cream, too." <br />
His mother snatched him from the chair, "No son, in this family, you will not like ice cream. You like cake. Remember? Mommy has told you that."<br />
His eyes swept the room, lingering on the ice cream, "but, I don't like cake, Mom."<br />
<br />
By: Elizabeth AzpuruaElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-57580812989075812862014-05-07T10:56:00.000-07:002014-05-07T10:56:00.030-07:00STUCKI find myself stuck in these repeating patterns lately.<br />
I forgive, move on, let go, and then turn around and grab the same thing I let go, it bites me again, I suffer in pain, forgive, move on, etc, etc.<br />
It repeats.<br />
Why?<br />
<br />
I'm not sure why as a human we tend to do this.<br />
I'm not sure why I do it.<br />
I know logically that what I go back to is causing me pain and that I am not progressing because of it, yet somewhere in my heart I feel this need to <em>try again </em>hoping for another result.<br />
<br />
How do we break the pattern or stop the cycle?<br />
I get so annoyed by myself and my own stupidity.<br />
<br />
Elizabeth AzpuruaElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-57149858981508129432014-05-05T10:52:00.000-07:002014-05-05T10:52:03.129-07:00Boudoir Photos - and some thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So, maybe you didn't know, maybe you did, regardless, not only do I write, but I also model. That by the way was a terribly long run on sentence. I enjoy modeling, and posing, and all the things that go along with it. However, I do not enjoy the mentality that showing any skin is vulgar, or even pornographic. There seems to be this notion that as a woman, if I choose to show skin I am becoming something suddenly more sexualized. <br />
There's beauty in the body.<br />
There's beauty in the female form.<br />
Everything becomes sexualized though. <br />
I'm really trying to show women you can be curvy and love your bodies.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQalK_7w5VKCXjqFYRqTMj8zLR-uYNC-tcn4cSEyR4v7b1eta-Pv4g_JbLvCxIi0hZcpVgiaLxU4P0Xju3vyyrEef8qltmc18uZ_885gtDgbNSpQcBFGsjfkX4gw-4xq3HRp2K6oh22CX/s1600/10152049_742028902508216_1846716079325051207_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQalK_7w5VKCXjqFYRqTMj8zLR-uYNC-tcn4cSEyR4v7b1eta-Pv4g_JbLvCxIi0hZcpVgiaLxU4P0Xju3vyyrEef8qltmc18uZ_885gtDgbNSpQcBFGsjfkX4gw-4xq3HRp2K6oh22CX/s1600/10152049_742028902508216_1846716079325051207_n.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a><br />
Photo credit goes to Lindsey Worthington Photography<br />
Model is of course me, Elizabeth Azpurua<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.elizabethazpurua.weebly.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> here has more photos - lots more.<br />
<br />Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-29944518999764705532014-03-19T11:41:00.000-07:002014-03-19T11:42:26.533-07:00NyctophiliaDo you like standing beneath the stars, their light and patterns comforting, soothing, calming and yet sometimes exhilarating?<br />
I love night walks and gazing at the phases of the moon, tracking its dance across the sky; far more at peace beneath its cool light than the blazing sun.<br />
I like foggy twilight as it settles in, the sun gone down, night birds alive with the hush of woods.<br />
I like dark wooded paths, haunted places, and spooky trees; I wish to say "I have arrived friends, let me haunt with you".<br />
Some of us like the darkness, revel in the night, the crisp air, the cool wind.<br />
Where there are souls aching for bright days with outstretched arms to the sun, there are those of us in shadow, running out into sunsets, dancing with crickets and bats as the stars become brighter and the sky darker.<br />
We like black and midnight blue, we like deep purple and dark grey - we are the ones content to sit in darkness with no light or candle at peace with the night.<br />
We are the ones captivated by the enormity of the universe above us and marveling at shadows cast by the moon.<br />
For us, 3am is not uncommon a time to be awake, vibrant, and unafraid.<br />
Balmy nights with cicada symphonies, brisk chilly nights with falling snowflakes, thunderous storm rich nights of lightning wars and still autumn nights of October chill are our playgrounds.<br />
What separates us from others? Nyctophelia some call it. A love of night? Oh, yes. A nocturnal need and a lust for starlight. The moon is our beacon, and the darkness our solace.<br />
<br />
By: Elizabeth AzpuruaElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-32636899636732282402014-01-15T11:52:00.000-08:002014-01-15T11:52:13.119-08:00CirclesDo you ever have those moments of clarity where you suddenly realize you have been allowing yourself to suffer for the same thing for months and months? Or years and years?<br />
Do you ever just wonder why you cannot step out of the circle you keep walking?<br />
Why do we put ourselves through so much instead of letting go and moving on?<br />
It is like we enjoy these circles.<br />
These endless days of never moving forward.<br />
<br />
I want to keep walking.<br />
I want to let it go.<br />
Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-5823982868432800132013-09-21T08:26:00.002-07:002013-09-21T08:26:32.633-07:00Not NormalLet me take a moment to congratulate you on being normal! Congrats on having normal desires that God gave you; congrats on being able to express your desires in an institution called marriage, so that you can live without the weight of Satan using your desires against you. What a relief it must be to know God's great love for you because he established a way for you to love and express your love behind closed doors in a sensual, even erotic way (you wouldn't tell your friends about!), but also that you can express affection in public with the one you love - in fact, just be grateful you live in such a great Nation where you can hold hands with the one you love! You can propose to them in a restaurant and people will clap! How awesome is that?! You must feel incredibly blessed that you were born normal, with natural desires, and your first crush was considered "cute" in your household; what a blessing to know that you don't have to live a life of celibacy to stay away from such evil enticings that will lead you down a road of misery. Congrats on not having to ever turn off such a core part of your being - you must feel so blessed! You can look at your husband or wife as if they're dessert and you've been on a diet for a month! That's awesome! Life must be great for you! No wonder you're trying so hard to help everyone have what you have! No wonder you're trying to save them from a life ruled by Satan! The happiness you have is fantastic, and it's no wonder you want everyone to feel the way you feel - it's a shame they weren't all born that way! That's just their trial in life, to put off the natural man, and to feel the spirit and let go of unnatural desires, turning all of themselves to God - I mean, you've done it right? You've had to shut off the part of you that is attraction, desire, and the need for comfort from the ones you have feelings for - it wasn't that hard, right? The love for your spouse is completely based on their beautiful soul, and no amount of sexual desire is ever present, right? You have given up "the natural man" completely and have lived a life of angelic, pure, love that has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with the service - right? Oh. I see. You haven't done that because your desires expressed behind closed doors in your marriage are acceptable in God's eyes. You've never had to feel wrong, or sinful, or evil for something so natural in your nature as expressing your love through intimacy, creating a bond between you and your spouse through shared physical joys. Hrmmmm.... perhaps you should handle those not born "normal" like yourself a little more delicately since you've never gone through that and aren't forced to live the life you're telling them is the right way to live. Perhaps you should be a little kinder in your approach. In fact, maybe you should go home and hug your spouse and think about your wedding, and the benefits of your marriage, and how lucky you are to have the life you have rather than trying to convince everyone they should have the same life as you. But what do I know about it? I wasn't born in a way to understand where you're coming from. I was born to understand where THEY are coming from. I know God still loves me regardless, and I know He loves you, and I know He loves everyone and wants everyone to be happy, not miserable. Life is so short and so hard just as it is, surely you can make someone's day a little easier without feeling the need to tell them they're unnatural desires are being used against them by Satan and that you will love them as a sinner but you just can't accept the sin. Surely, you could have looked at them and said instead, "Have I told you lately how much I love seeing you happy?" or "What a beautiful place this is when you're around." or, "I love you just the way you are." But what I do know? I'm not normal.Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-19941471114934155312013-07-25T10:40:00.000-07:002013-07-25T10:40:35.996-07:00My Problem With FriendsMy biggest problem with life seems to be that my definition of friendship and loyalty is always different from everyone else's regardless of what they say or feel or what they claim to stand for. So, I'm constantly let down, or see the "true" colors of people and I get upset - but why?<br />
I can't expect everyone to view things as I do, or to put as much into relationships as I do; I must have been a knight in a former life or something similar. I'm the type of girl who when I give you my all I give you my all. If I am on your side, I tell the truth, I don't hide things, your enemies are my enemies and I will stand by you through it all - - - but then I realize, sadly, that those who I suppose will act as I act don't feel the need to do such things. I realize most relationships are shallow, technology based, or rather relying on the convenience of technology, and most people lie and hide things - a lot.<br />
They say everyone's a liar. True, but I think it comes down to why and what the lies are about - I mean, there's just things you aren't supposed to do if you love people. There's things you're supposed to share. There's supposed to be some type of fierce loyalty involved in the strong bonds of any form of a relationship - but where the hell did it go?<br />
So, I'm left with brief encounters, texting, small chit chat, etc etc etc.<br />
The fact it upsets me is my own problem, I guess.<br />
We're all busy.<br />
We live busy lives.<br />
We pass briefly, smile, and move on.<br />
I'm beginning to think this notion of always having someone who has your back is non-existent.<br />
Maybe if I let go of wanting that I'll be able to be happy.<br />
Happy with the lesser form of friendship the world offers.<br />
It just doesn't feel right.<br />
It feels sad.<br />
I always wanted someone I could stand by until I take my last breath because I said I would and I wanted someone to want to do the same for me.<br />
I know I have a purpose here in this time and life, in this place, in this sense of "now", but if I had a dollar for every time I felt like I belonged elsewhere in a different time I know I'd have a lot of useless paper.<br />
Loyalty.<br />
Define it.<br />
Define it again.<br />
Define it better than you just defined it.<br />
You don't know what it is.<br />
You probably lie and make excuses and avoid and gossip and turn your back on, ignore, pretend, hide, covet, mock, accuse, and judge the very people you shouldn't and then, you probably put cute emoticons in your messages, or give fake smiles, or pretend to have fun.<br />
That's what this life is reducing us to.<br />
We don't have to fight for each other's lives, or stand guard to defend each other, or toil side by side in order to stay alive - we just exist from one moment of hanging out and catching up to the other and all depth or bonds of loyalty needn't exist in such a shallow world.<br />
So I'm fighting it.<br />
I'm upset by it.<br />
Why?<br />
Because it's wrong.<br />
But no one has the energy or desire to change it.<br />
No one has the time.<br />
I'll just be swept up in these shallow waters of rapid moving life<br />
I'll travel the currents near the shores<br />
I'll hit rocks, and I'll hit sand,<br />
and one day I'll change course<br />
I'll sink beneath the surface and swim down to a deeper life<br />
I'll travel into waters seeking more<br />
I'll go down, and find a hand<br />
leading me to what I was looking for<br />
<br />
Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-13872460003031490392013-04-08T21:47:00.002-07:002013-04-08T21:47:14.216-07:00Love and Heart AcheShe loved him not knowing how her heart could have such a cavernous capacity to contain the eruptive force that spread into her limbs like a dam breaking, flooding villages and eroding the land into a quaking mess.<br />
Her whispered words in the darkness caressed the air like moths flying towards a light on a hot summer's eve, wings beating against humid air, mesmerized by a glow against a velvet world.<br />
In ever facet of her life, she marveled at his ways, his movements, his voice and the way his heart beat beneath her fingertips, sure, steady and rhythmic, so full of life and passion; a carousel of joy.<br />
His shoulders became the platform from which her lips propelled themselves over and over in sequence to the frenzied beating of her birdlike heart making music that could only escape from her when translated into touch.<br />
The way his eyelashes graced his eyes reminiscent of the finest thread would weave upon her aching mind like weighted dreams wherewith she could never quite recover from the image she had seen.<br />
There would never be another quite like him to ease into her world so perfectly and plant an everlasting garden of joy and wonder to spring upwards inside her soul.<br />
For this, she loved him not knowing how her heart was ever granted such depth to contain such an emotion as the one overflowing from her in spiralling rivulets that surely he felt every time she smiled and said "I love you."<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="center">
~**~</div>
<br />
<br />
At night, the darkness is an anchor to keep one at bay in a bed of linen, like a prison, to contain ones grief, longing and need.<br />
The air is the sorceress giving the power to continue while the edges of sanity unravel into tendrils of woe.<br />
This is not love, but a breaking heart; not hope, but an ageless sorrow.<br />
They do not prepare you for the weight of the pain that sinks down around you like a shadowed fist to steal away the life you once had known.<br />
They do not prepare you for the way a heart breaks, slowly, in increments, then all at once.<br />
Translate that feeling into sound and you'd go deaf.<br />
Translate it into sight and you'd go blind.<br />
If you could taste it, you'd never taste again. <br />
The scent would leave you unable to breathe.<br />
That is why the only way to understand it, is to feel it - inside.Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-61296578246196005652013-01-02T14:45:00.001-08:002013-01-02T14:45:25.142-08:00What If....?Where would we all be if all ship builders believed that the only means of travel is to travel on the sea? <br />
Where might we live if all mothers did believe that only in the mountains are children meant to be?<br />
What would we eat if all farmers hated corn and only planted beans inside their fields?<br />
What would have happened if soldiers only carried swords and never carried shields?<br />
Where would you go if the train conductors feared the tracks beneath the trains and where would you sleep if no one thought to build shelters from the rains?<br />
You want all the world to match your views and believe all that you believe yet you never stop to think or really to conceive<br />
What might the land look like if all gardens hated green and if all children were taught to see only what is seen?<br />
If the world were all the same, we would all be like drones, little robots in lines not like multicolored stones<br />
The beauty in our faces comes from the stories that we tell and what we tell depends upon what we all see<br />
If our eyes were all the same then our stories too would be and nothing would be rare and nothing would be free<br />
<br />
~ElizabethElizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-43500471251885045652012-10-26T09:03:00.000-07:002012-10-26T09:03:04.164-07:00I Need.........I think the stars are aligning in a way to cause havoc and mayhem for this Libra. Why is it so hard to find someone to share the beauty in life with? I'm left exhausted by "Hey Liz", "Damn ur sexyyy" and "what r u doin?" and find myself seeking someone capable of higher intelligence and deeper spirituality. Why can I not find someone who goes outside and feels the echo of nature in his bones? I want to find someone who gets the need I have for standing beneath the sky and marveling at how very small I am in the universe, and yet, I can stand in awe at such beauty around me. Why can I not find someone who reads what I write and loves that I write so much he will buy me a cottage near a coast so that I may listen to the sea as I write. I do not want hookups. I do not want to waste my time on someone who is only pursuing me so that he can eventually have sex with me. I want someone who is astounded by my view of the world and finds it incredible and wants to share with me his view. He doesn't have to cook - but he has to love meals cooked on an open fire. He doesn't have to sing - but he has to love me singing as I clean. He doesn't have to understand why I like pretty things, he just has to let me like them and have them and fill a home with them. He must understand that I, as a Libra, may love all the lace and pearls and satin of the world - but I also like weapons and never shy away from a good fight. Like a General, in satin and velvet. I need swords and knives and necessary artillery along with pretty pillows and curtains. I need books and music and the sound of birds. Ah, why can I not find someone with whom to share the world with? It's so beautiful and life is so short.... and I'm perishing in a world I feel ill equipped to harbor one such as I. To quote C.S. Lewis: “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3437493029628098021.post-87618338278944735552012-10-22T22:00:00.003-07:002012-10-22T22:00:56.334-07:00Gathering Inspiration Part IMy friend Johnny and I were discussing inspiration and I didn't realize that perhaps the process in which I gather inspiration might help others also to become inspired, whether for art, photography, music, poetry, or life in general.<br />
I wanted to focus on a few areas in which I gather inspiration.<br />
<br />
:Nature:<br />
The Light Side<br />
The Dark Side<br />
<br />
:Emotive:<br />
Moody<br />
Anger<br />
Joy<br />
Sorrow<br />
<br />
:Love:<br />
The Good, The Bad and the Ugly<br />
<br />
:Metaphors:<br />
<br />
In each of these I will briefly describe the ways in which I gather inspiration.<br />
<br />
Nature: The Light Side<br />
In order to feel the light energy of nature, it is important to be out in it. On a porch, in the yard, the woods, a beach, a park, the sea, or in a river - these places offer an abundance of inspiring moments, from the light on a leaf to the sound of a bird, the gurgle of water over rocks or the wind through your hair, finding the uniqueness of the place you're in is key to gathering inspiration.<br />
I often find myself mesmerized by clouds. I find their shapes to be intriguing, how they change and morph into something new. I find the way light comes through them to be uplifting. The churning storm clouds and the fluffy clouds of a pretty day, the wispy tendrils across the sky, and the way the sun sets behind clouds colored in cotton candy pink or salmon, or lavender. <br />
The sun is forever inspiring - it adds light and depth to everything we see. It changes dark corners into brightened places and changes shapeless fields into wonders of shadowed blades of grass.<br />
Insects buzzing and birds chirping, wind rustling and rain falling - sounds; sounds truly are transporters into new realms.<br />
I enjoy the changing sights and smells of the seasons. Each season has an abundance of new smells and sights to behold. The scent of one season may inspire in you an entirely different emotion from another season. Think of the lilies in Spring, the fresh cut grass smell of Summer, the smell of fog and wet leaves in Autumn and the crisp scent in the air on a blustery Winter day. <br />
Whether the waves of the sea inspire you, or the sound of an owl, or the changing stars - the feelings of nature can become great companions throughout your day. <br />
If you've never watched the moon on a cloudless night, nor waited in wonder for a shooting star, nor seen the sunrise nor watched a storm pass, surely your head has been turned down too long.<br />
The next time you are out and about, contemplate the trees, the flowers, bark, ants and the smell of the wind; capture the energy inside you and let it lighten you.<br />
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Nature: The Dark Side<br />
I am morbid. First off, do not let the former words fool you, I too, am inspired by the decaying world of nature. I am inspired by death, and the destruction of storms; I'm inspired by battered boats and broken windows from wayward tree limbs. I'm inspired by fallen trees and scorched earth. I find inspiration in the smell of smoke and how one vine can completely choke the life from another plant. I find the hunting predator's victory a marvel and the the macabre and creepy world of darkness to be intriguing. There is an unsettling feel to the woods at night; a feeling of vulnerability not found in daylight. The howling wind and creaking wood - these things can fuel inspired works of a darker sort. <br />
If you've never walked the road at dusk while bats flew overhead, nor watched a hurricane bend palms towards the ground, nor walked in the aftermath of a fire, you've not seen the darker side of nature. It too, has inspiring bits - even if sharper edged.<br />
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Emotive: Moody<br />
Ah, the term "moody" can apply to many moods, too many usually, all battling inside you. Inspiration that comes from our moods if by far the most common - our moods change everything we behold in front of us. "Moody" is the term I use when I have emotions battling each other like dragons in a coffin - not enough room and it's hard to see the victor in such a tight space. I feel like I'm up, down, sideways and sprawled on a floor inside my soul - "moody" is inspiring for many reasons, but mostly, in your journey to unlock each emotion you find a tapestry of threads to draw from; each mood is a new layer to uncover, and each discovery is more fuel for your Muse.<br />
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Emotive: Anger<br />
That crushing, snapping, want to scream, shout, kick, throw, stomp, beat, tear apart feeling we sometimes get. It's hot and bubbly inside or cold and calculated. It either bursts out from us or seethes inwardly. Anger is an emotion to let out - not hold in. Being inspired by anger can be tricky. How does one let it be inspiration without taking oneself over? Such a balancing act - but truly potent fuel for your works if used right - if used wrong, it becomes poison that eats away at our other inspirations. Anger is an emotion to capture quickly and use swiftly.<br />
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Emotive: Joy<br />
I didn't want to focus on simply "happy" because for most artists "happy" is too light, too shallow - our "happy" is really "joy". It's the feeling after struggle. It's the feeling we discover after we've seen all the darkened corners and dismal places. Joy is the feeling that gives our soul wings, if even but for a moment. It's inspired by moments or memories or utter exhilarating feelings and through us we wish to propel the joy outward. Joy is an inspiration meant to be shared. It's something one knows only after one has experienced the opposite. In joy, we learn the truest depth of happiness.<br />
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Emotive: Sorrow<br />
Truly, the best remedy of sorrow is to turn it into art. We learn the bottom of our souls in sorrow. We walk that place at the bottom and our feet mold into the floor. We taste it in the air and sometimes we make for ourselves a cloak of sorrow and wear it on us like a shield. We project "I am hurt" as if to ward off further hurt. Our sorrow becomes the chains we use to bind us. Sorrow should be released with time. It will change, but give it wings to fly away, not roots to sink in deeper. I find often sorrow is in my writing, it's in the spaces between my words. If I were a painter, my trees might be tinged in colors of sorrow. It casts blurred shadows over what we see. <br />
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Love: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly<br />
I could write an entire blog on love. Oh wait, I have. I write endlessly of the many forms of love. It seeps into every ounce of what I do. The good is like wind chimes blowing through my heart, the bad is like shattering glass on the floor of my soul and the ugly is my wishing for daggers and claws to wound the one causing my pain. Love is always going to be the number one inspiration in life. We're all touched by love. Whether it was a gentle touch, a punch, or searing mark left on us, love is that one thing we all want, need, seek, find, lose, and wish we could escape from - and it fuels us. It fuels our lives. Love is our drive. It's the combustible force in desire and the earthquake to shake us apart and rebuild us into something new. <br />
The good things of love leave us starry eyed. They leave us with that look of bloomed flowers.<br />
The bad things of love tear us apart and wrench our souls and leave us in shreds.<br />
The ugly things of love cause us to feel for someone what we never intended, and can lead from anger into hate, the most destructive thing to a human being.<br />
I don't think I have to tell anyone to let love inspire them. I don't see how you could keep yourself from being manipulated by love - it's in all we do.<br />
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Metaphors<br />
By now, you have gathered my usage of metaphors (and similes) is the way I explain emotions with words. I'm not sure how to describe the way I view the world in metaphors. Your happiness is palpable scent I wish to place in a candle and burn on cold nights; your voice is like honey to soothe my soul; his eyes reminded me of windows reflecting sky, and the balloon she held fled and burst in the wind like childhood dreams often rise and die with time. I think anyone reading my poems probably thinks I write when I'm high - I write sober, actually, but regardless I compare things to rodeos and whales and an albatross, to mazes and doors and toadstools; I have symbolism for myself in all that I write and each thing means something else usually. My mind is a labyrinth of murals painted in the colors of memories. I don't know how to view the world but in metaphors.<br />
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For now, this is all I am focusing on. I would like to further write regarding the inspiration I gather through observation of people; also, inspiration from dreams and memories. <br />
I hope I have helped to inspire through my words, or simply gave you an insight into how I draw inspiration from the world around me.<br />
Thank you again to Johnny, who is a wonderfully talented individual who also inspires me and at some point I will write on the inspiration of music, until then, fuel your Muse, feed your soul and embody inspiration in your life.<br />
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~Elizabeth Azpurua<br />
Elizabeth Azpuruahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12190464754119528282noreply@blogger.com0