Category Archives: Creative

Family Friday

Introducing a new element to Fog For Muses-Family Friday.  Every Friday, it is my goal to highlight the God given talent/creative expression/blog/etc of someone I consider family.

Ok, I know I don’t have the biggest of platforms when it comes to blogging, but I consider you all part of my online family.

That being the case, I want to connect you with some of my blood family.  My brother Jared, just released an ep via Noise Trade.  Check it out!

http://noisetrade.com/thejaredfergusonband

As the only sister of the founding member, I was blessed with the opportunity to sit in on some of their “studio” work.  Apart from having to be really quiet while sitting in a creaky chair, can I just say it was a mind blowing experience.  I never thought I would hear my brother say “Man, I wish this track had a little Mandolin…give me a sec” and then watch him pick up a mandolin (an instrument he does not play) and figure out the chords for his song!  It’s a little sick, if you ask me, but still amazing :).  So, check out their ep and if you ask nicely, I’ll leak some other random facts from my studio time with Jared Ferguson and Matt Hall.

And hey, if you want a Family Friday plug/shout out/guest blog, let me know.

We have two awesome guest blogs coming up in the near future from Janis Ferguson (my mommy) and a sister of my heart, Elaine Otuije, so, consider this the cue to get excited 😉

Lyssah

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Medium Despised

I can’t despise the medium
Into which this life is breathed
Though without its inception
My heart may have been spared
I won’t reject the message
Though pain is mixed within
The sacrifice so tainted
By the tear stains left behind
I can’t despise the medium
This picture I wouldn’t have chosen
This sonnet I wouldn’t have written
This lesson I cried
To learn
I won’t reject the message
This plot so twistedly woven
Though my emotions desire
And would opt out if they could
Every stroke
A cut that bleeds
The flesh out of me
Every word
A tattoo
That leaves me maimed
Every note
A joy
Seen on the other side of the darkness
Every color
A road less traveled
A burden less bared
But if not for this medium
It remains
A masterpiece unseen
A truth remains a dream undreamed
A hope left unplanted
A future still dim
But if not for this message
A wise woman unborn
A strong woman
not conceived
A future
Left Unlived
I embrace the medium
Color mixed with pain
I embrace the message
Truth that still remains
I embrace the Master
Seen in the work of his hands
I embrace my Maker
And submit to his plans

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Voice

The individual signature dwelling within each,
not to be duplicated or cheaply imitated. 
Do not confuse the reverberation uttered with the help of vocal cords,
used all too often to speak the discord
found in dissonance birthed by an un-renewed mind;
but rather, recognize the divine resonance
that many times lies unrealized, stifled within.

I hear your voice! 
Stated boldly in words printed, surging in the melody you play, the rhythm echoing still. 
I hear your voice!  In the arms you stretch out and use to embrace,
in the authenticity beaming from the lit countenance held boldly aloft,
yet with no thought of being seen. 
I hear your voice! 
In the shirt you’ve worn more than you’ve washed
and the shoes that have tread the miles and leagues the world over,
everywhere you’ve been.
I hear your voice!
In the lives you’ve raised from but a dream
and the action you’ve taken to make aware the masses of those unseen.
I hear your voice!
In the tears that have been shed in frustration, spurred by injustice that never seems to die. 
I hear your voice!
In joy of the adventures that have been and will be;
in the hope that hinges on what a new day brings.
I hear your voice!
In the dreams dreamed,
the races run
and the paths walked in between.
Don’t think that voice is small or weak or silenced by the mistakes past. 
It can only be made small if kept in a cage. 
It can only be weakened by lack of use
and it can only be silenced by reckless abuse.  It is qualified! 
It is powerful! 
It is the imprint of the resonance that created creativity. 

It’s the echo of the one that spoke life into you and me.

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Snow Glob Secretary

So, it was a slow day at work a few weeks ago and I began to think how being a reciptionist is similar to living in a snow globe.  So, I wrote a poem to pass the time 🙂  Thought I would share it, in the event that anyone feels like I do sometimes, placed for a purpose but still just a little stuck.

Disclaimer: I do not claim to be a poet, but I do claim to be good at entertaining myself.  It is written in more of a rant style, so no worries for no correct meter or cadence 🙂


To see the world through glass.
Entombed and encased, you walk past,
never seeing but to notice the figure frozen within.
But one scene here in to be witnessed,
but one form forever ensconced in plain sight.
This purpose is masked by the ornament and embellishment
embodied in the supporting base.
Yet you pass,
never dreaming more
than a still form
lies beneath
the shear shell that you see.
A simple depiction set day after day,
reflecting the musing of the creator’s hand.
A voice seemingly stifled,
but always observing the beauty
and movement of the external life,
constant motion,
an ebb and flow of drive.
Chained to this shelf,
a bystander subject to the dust
that the present sedentary demands,
and yet confident of the higher plan
in motion
while in time viewed still.
But as destined in selection,
prepared and packaged with planned intent,
a life to inspire and delight,
with anticipation waiting.
Waiting for the shaking that will set beauty in motion;
and unleash a destined light of joy,
warming hearts and inciting dreams.
A turbulence that births fresh perspective and things
as of yet unseen.
With eyes now enlightened
and life once excited,
gladly introduced to this breathtaking mystery,
previously hindered by mediocrity,
I remain.
My position has not
and will never change,
but by this insight I will forever remain,
ready for all I know to be raised,
shifted and shaken,
caught in the haze,
yet knowing that when
this existence has met it’s end,
the beauty was in the motion.

 

PS-Happy Birthday Bubby!!!!! Tonight is going to be Ledgend….wait for it….Dairy!

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