Digital Abstract Art, Digital Art, Short Stories

A Prime Vessel For Creativity!

Sleep — Click on image for details

How much sleep do you need to function at your best? Are you an early bird or a night owl like myself?

There are days when I sleep so long that upon rising I’m in a groggy stateseemingly incapable of much but ablutions, a bit of food intake and believe it or not more sleep! During this period I’m basically in recovery mode, usually from a stressful situation like an intense work schedule, emotional deflation or just in need of a mental/physical leave of absence.

Then there are the days when it’s like I’m on fire. My brain goes into overdrive, ideas flow freely and I can’t get them from my head to hard copy fast enough! During those bursts of creativity, I tend to sleep in 4-hour blocks. Call it power sleeping if you will, but it’s similar to the effects of a power nap where the body and brain rest just enough to propel one through the rest of the day!

I recently lost my younger brother, my only sibling, and spent roughly a month in recovery mode. Now I’m in power sleep mode, and after taking a year long break from writing as I worked on other projects the creative juices are flowing again. The dots are connecting, the fire is burning bright, and I’m happy to be back in the writing saddle! I’m loving this phase!

So, what phase are you in now? What makes you a prime vessel for creativity? Would love you hear from you!

Contents compiled: September 9 2019
Originally published: September 9 2019
Image source: Moylom Art Studio
Copyright © 2019 Moylom Art Studio

Sell Art Online

Digital Art, Poetry


I laid there
for what seemed like forever
trying to create
something of substance.
But my eyes
could not stay open long enough
to be of any use to me
or the creative process.
I, a prop to my pillow,
became its midnight companion
and a part of its creative process —

Contents written April 29 2019
Digital Art by Moylom Art Studio
Copyright ©2019 Moylom Art Studio


Facing her fears, living her nightmares…


Waking up on thin ice,
She tiptoes across the frozen lake of her fears
Hoping to make it safely to the other side.

She can’t swim so prays earnestly for guidance,
And with her final utterance
The ice cracks and she disappears.

Is this her deliverance or her demise?
In the depths of icy water a voice says,
“Face your fears.  It’s  the only path to safety.”

Her discovery is liberating.
She surfaces from the depths of darkness,
Takes a deep breath and dips back under the ice.

She’ll make it to shore or die trying.
Determined, she presses on imperfectly,
Not looking back, swimming with all her might.

She breaks through the shallows.
She’s tired now, resting her wary head.
The fear drips off her; she shivers.

Perhaps sleep will stay a while this time.
It’s the only escape from her fears.
But as she dozes, there’s a distant rustling.

Sleep is close but it won’t come to her.
It teases and torments her — a cruel joke.
This is the nightmare of her life…

Contents written: July 16 2016  |  Originally published: July 17 2016  |  Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises

Poetry, single parenting

Constantly toiling…


Quote from “Shakespeare’s Sonnets” by William Shakespeare –

“Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose for limbs with travel tir’d;
But then begins a journey in my head
To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired: For then my thoughts—from far where I abide— Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see: Save that my soul’s imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night, Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.”

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Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: September 18 2016
Originally published: September 21 2016
Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises


Dreaming of you



Once upon a dreary morning,
The wind blew strong its chill felt deeply.
I had no desire to be outside,
It’s only September my body cried!

I walked the dog and went back to bed,
And had sweet dreams of you instead.
You kissed my lips as I was sleeping,
I felt you close, and your heart beating.

The doorbell rang and broke my slumber.
How dare they foil the best dream ever?
I went to see the perpetrator
But no one was there, nary a neighbor.

So was the bell I heard also a dream?
Or was it some elaborate childish scheme?
I went back to bed quite annoyed,
Wishing you’d return to fill my void.

But your presence was never again my joy
For though I wished the magic went array.
I tossed and turned earnestly desiring
You’d return to me to again my darling.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: October 1 2016
Originally published: October 2 2016
Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises

Poetry, Short Stories, Uncategorized

My body


Dinner is over
But here I still sit
Unable to move
I’m tired…
My body aches
For the touch
Of a healing hand.

I haven’t been to the gym
Since the summer heat began.
I have trouble breathing when it’s too hot —
I feel depleted easily — lightheaded.
Aware that the heat is my enemy,
I make a conscious effort to
Taking things slow —
I must listen to my body.

Perhaps that’s why I ache;
Perhaps things are seizing up again;
Perhaps I’m slowly undoing
All those months of physical therapy —
All those months of healing at the gym.
I need to do my stretches,
Even if I’m not hustling to the gym —
I need to make the time — I know better.
My body needs attention.

Then I’m struggling with side effects
Of new medication.
Isn’t it funny how a fix for one thing
Breaks something else?
This also leaves me feeling depleted —
I’m not feeling myself.

But wait, I’ve had a headache all day,
Now I feel chilly and achy.
What if I’m getting sick?
What if I’m catching
That little bug from munchkin?
Oh gosh, I have no time for illness now!

I’ll have to self-medicate,
But what I really need is balance.
I need rest, nourishment, healing.
My body aches
For the touch
Of a healing hand.

Contents written: August 1 2016  |  Originally published: August 2 2016   | Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises

Poetry, Uncategorized

It’s just madness!!!

Into the late hours of the night
I usually revel in the silence,
Calling upon my muse
To infuse me with bursts of creativity —
The feeling is usually wonderfully europhic.

But this time, clarity of thought escapes me;
My head nods, my eyes close, my body slumps.
I read the same sentence 7 times,
Forcing the issue,
Hoping to be productive,
But achieving nothing but errors.

So as high achieving as I strive to be
As is the firstborn dilemma,
I must admit that I can only do so much
Before my body rebels
Forcing me to listen
As I’ve ignored it one too many times.

Put down the devices;
Turn off the lights;
There’s no method to the madness,
Nope,  at this point it’s just madness!!! .
It’s time to sleep…

Image source: Google images

Contents written: July 28 2016  | Originally published: July 28 2016   |  Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises