Welcome to this Creative Asset Project
Part 1
This is in fact, a set of projects, originating from when I walked unto a pathway for which I am privileged, that of a prolific writer.
I discovered my writing was on its’ own mission. While a green writer, I had not the forethought to know my writing had a dual purpose. One to heal my broken heartedness, not once, but over and over.
And another purpose, to illuminate the pathway for others to cross over their bridge to hope, healing, and traverse their own brick road to reveal their purpose.
When I first met the auspicious, honorable idea called Poetry, I was writing poem after poem laying across my bed, circa mid-1970s.
I didn’t know they were lifelines for the watershed moments that were going to be had.
Several years after my poetic collection grew, I was entrusted with memorizing the words and cadence to songs, as I found myself reciting song lyrics in my bath tub on more than one occasion. I was challenged with repeating the lines over and over until I could grab my towel and paper to capture the piece that landed in my head.
I recall vividly, the very first song I wrote was an original song for an entire choir, with parts for soprano, alto, tenor and bass. Then the song prompted the choir to sing in unison.
It would be many years before I realized the poetry and songwriting represented themselves as creative assets, in a vocational ministry, of sorts.
Musicality, though represented a juxtaposition for my life: emotionally injured from grade school to my entry into adulthood, yet, filled with the potency of lyrical and poetic purpose.
As my writing grew in dimension, I attached the best descriptor I could find, ‘multi-genre writer’, as I followed where writing led me, to my Communications profession, and my calling as advocate.
Later multi-genre writer was silently replaced by an everlasting identification, seeing myself as a vessel, for all practical purposes.
Creative Assets envisioned
by Karen Joy
Part 2
One review of the weighty catalog that began to form under my Vessel- ship oversight, and I recognized the duality of the word VesselShip. One, it is to describe how a vessel holds dear, its’ content. And secondly, a Vesselship reference exudes a spiritual connotation, as a calling, meant to embody and just importantly, meant to pour forth.
Writing, and the responsible embodiment of content was not necessarily easy, especially due to the volume, which translates to a sun up to sun down writing lifestyle. However, writing has been something I could not control.
Serendipitously, my profession as a Speaker, and Communications Specialist gave me storytelling license to share from the writing bounty. But, even then, my writing collection bulged as I’ve written beyond my own comprehension of the capacity of an otherwise immeasurable vessel.
This outpouring from the so-called vessel, is due to the fact that, the content is bound for others’ healing, and part of a larger plan, where story facilitates an unsealing… (of an green envelope filled with purpose)… more to be revealed regarding this, along the way.
With gratitude, as I have come this far, I now step aside of the mission of the body of work that I am privileged to share, lest all is lost.
In my human-ness, I have been the privileged writer, but the reluctant transparent storyteller, who recognizes the writing collection is not about me. I am the acapella singer, demo vocalist, writer and the lyricist whose lyrics insist their mission is to uplift.
This brings me to a breakthrough for which I have awakened to, summarized in a poem I’ve written, entitled: The Reluctant Storyteller.
The Reluctant Storyteller
Who, pray tell would volunteer to recount
all of the ways they faced the force called bullying
Was confronted with stigma
Had their name plastered in rumors
Who would volunteer to
Tell the world about an issue
Of historical attention
The reason for her insignificance
Who would choose to tell a story
The entire world thinks they already know
So who pray tell would plan to step up and own it
Why would one girl raise her hand
Call attention to herself
When that’s how ridicule began
After all of the running home scared
After being the one who just couldn’t understand
Why the school became a playground
Full of strife and fears….unrelenting
For what reason would a person
Announce her peril from coast to coast
Knowing she was once the one
Silenced in the cross hairs of the merciless
Not many would choose such stories for rehearsal
Of an identity that was in crisis
Crushed like glass, smashed, grabbed and discarded
Why would someone choose themself
To expose all their emotional injuries
Their pain and their suffering
Unless there in the midst
Was a huge plot twist discovery
While traveling the high seas
What limited-ness would a vessel see
None exists in the ocean so deep
None is found in the wind that accompanies
Limited is not seen, felt or perceived
As one recognizes the Vessel is their wings
The moral of this story is: we are all vessels, filled with such immense gifts and talents. As a vessel, what you hold dear, must be poured forth, or you put your vessel-ship assignment at risk.