Poems and writings from November's Writing Challenge

There are few things more beautiful to me than intentionally challenging yourself to grow.

Although I haven't shot much these past few months, the creative fire inside me is still alive. On the days where it's too hard to look at a mirror let alone go outside to shoot, the act of writing is the only outlet that I have. Nothing but my thoughts and a way to write them down, pen to paper.

For the month of November, I challenged myself to write more.

"My pursuit of chasing humanity has led me here. I thoroughly believe that storytelling is one of the ultimate human skills to master in this lifetime, and I will not sit idly by anymore when I can be pouring myself into this craft.

So I decided to do a writing challenge this month.

What am I writing? Anything. Short stories, poems, songs, musings, scripts, anything. Everything.

My goal with this exercise is to improve my storytelling which is an integral part of making the inspiring videos I've always wanted to share. This is a step towards my dream."

—Ari. November 1st, 2024

A quick note about myself and poetry

I love poetry. I see it as an even more intimate branch of journaling—writing your innermost feelings in a way that's artistic and beautiful.

I think those who write poetry are absolutely incredible, because it takes a lot of courage and pain to create them. Throughout the course of decades, sharing my poems has been equivalent to undressing my soul which is why I rarely if ever shared my works. It's so intimate, too intimate. But this past year, I find myself just wanting to feel seen and understood more. There's a secret satisfaction in feeling that if one looks closely enough at my writings, my photography, they might see me. I guess artists can sometimes feel this way.

"Solitude," Rosy Mound Natural Area, Grand Haven MI, 2022

November Writing Challenge: Day 1

Silence fills the air.

It’s a heavy, oppressive, thick blanket that wraps around my shoulders.

Except instead of being comforting and warm, it shackles me down to the bed, leeches the warmth from my body, and leaves me cold to the touch.

It's been too long since I’ve last heard the lively sounds of friendship. Laughter, music, voices. I never thought I’d miss the ringing in my ears from the cacophony of life until all I heard was silence.

Such still silence.

—Friday, Nov 1st 2024

La Jolla San Diego CA, 2024

November Writing Challenge: Day 12

“Origami”

Some days I seem to find myself folding in like paper

The slightest breeze could blow me over

So inside my space, my head, is safer.

Weary of the stains of life, I keep my papers closed

But life has other plans, I see,

I still am left exposed.

So tinier and tinier, I tuck myself back in
I turn myself to different shapes,
No longer what I’ve been.

A crane, a plane, a butterfly

It doesn’t matter what

As long as I feel peace and safety,

As long as I’m not cut.

—Tuesday, Nov 12 2024

"Breathe," outside my fav local library, Warren MI, 2022

November Writing Challenge: Day 2

A click.

The flashlight forms a beacon that fights the inky darkness, its cold metal kissing my skin.

“Where is it? Where is it?” Exhaustion coats my voice like a heavy blanket.

The light beam roves over all things discarded and lost, a mountain of forgotten belongings. Above and around me stand towering piles of dark shapes, full of the broken and the bent. The heavy air tastes of loss and grief.

Spinning around, the light catches on several things that make my heart ache.

An old optimism for the world.

Ideas for the future.

The silhouettes of broken friendships.

As my eyes continue to scan the space, a glint catches my gaze.

There. In the distance.

Tentative steps break into a careless run as my feet carry me through the darkness, hair and clothes catching and scraping against the broken jagged bits of the past.

Eventually, I crouch down next to it. Next to her.

Me.

—Sat, Nov 2nd 2024

"Reflections," Summit One on a foggy day, NYC, 2023

November Writing Challenge: Day 6

Once again, I find myself in the same place.

Have my feet not carried me far enough? Have I not broken through the water's surface? Has all this effort been for naught?

But I feel it there, nestled in my ribcage. The resilience that has carried me so far.

If I have made it this distance, crossed through mountains and deserts and oceans, then I can keep going.

So I push my feet farther, my legs carrying the weight of the world.
Pour strength back into my arms as I continue to swim back up.
I take a break when I need to. Maybe even take way too many breaks than I deserve.

But what I won't do is give up completely.

The darkness won't swallow me again.

Never again.

—Wed, Nov 6th 2024

"Wrong stop," NYC, 2023

November Writing Challenge: Day 8

"The Weaver"

Some threads are small and dainty,
like spider's silk between my fingers.

Some threads are thick and take up space,
coiling like serpents onto my arm.

Some threads tangle too easily,
a mess of confusion and heartache.

And others still are impossible to work with,
defying any sense and any hand.

But I am the weaver and this is my loom,
sitting on my stool as they dance and they sing softly in my room.

Their colors mesh and collide, some bold and others subdued.
Line by line, again and again, they form a puzzling picture.

The grand tapestry of life,
The grand tapestry of people.

—Fri, Nov 8 2024

"Riddled with holes," MI 2022

November Writing Challenge: Day 11

“My Garden of Solitude”

The night is crisp, the moon is bright.
I wonder what I’ll plant tonight?

Tiny leaves rustle as my fingers graze the hedges,
Walking down the graveled pathway farther from the edges

An hour stolen here, a minute stolen there
When did finding time alone become a night-mare?

The calming scent of flowers brings me back towards my senses
If I could pocket how this feels, I feel I would be mended

Instead I feel the rot, decay and pooling sense of doom
Because my life no longer has the space, the time, or room

For all the things that bring me joy, a sense of wild fulfillment
Instead bereft of everything which I could call enrichment

But I make do with what I have, the time that I’m allotted
‘Cause life is short, and life comes fast. I savor every second

—Tuesday, Nov 12 2024

"Balboa Park", San Diego CA, 2024

November Writing Challenge: Day 17

“You reap what you sow”

If only I could tell the world

My secrets sown inside

Then maybe when the Reaper comes

I’d know I didn’t hide

—6:16pm at the car, in the apartment garage

"BLUR," August Self Portraits, 2023

November Writing Challenge: Day 16

"A good brain day"

The colors are louder today.

Hearing them vibrantly talk,

I tilt my head up to the sky

Wondering when it would be

for me to experience this high

that others call their "normal".

—S241116-1211@home

"The Bubble Wizard of Pacific Beach, San Diego CA, 2023

November Writing Challenge: Day 15

"Wishes" (a haiku)

Mirror in the pond,

Reflecting my desires,

Why are you murky ?

—9:52pm @ home

"Skydrop," Little Italy Waterfront, San Diego 2024

Thank you so much for reading!

I really appreciate you for taking the time to read my thoughts. It's not easy to bare your soul to an audience, but I have been learning lately that this is what sharing your art is all about. Another thing that I learned from this month-long challenge is that writing really does uncover your most authentic self.

If you read through the entire thing, I don't know what to say except for thank you. It's a liberating feeling, truly, and I'm excited to continue writing in this blog because I'd love to share more.

I hope that some of my writings reach and resonate with you. As always, thanks for reading, and see you in the next one.

"Autumn," Huron River Ann Arbor MI, 2022