Tag Archives: writing

On Writing: A Letter About Socks and Finding Inspiration

A couple of housekeeping notes before we start,

  1. If you like the content on this blog or simply want to buy me coffee and you are too far to do that in person, visit my Ko-Fi page.
  2. Take this 1-minute survey for my curiosity. I am working on a new article on streaming services for this blog. It will be a little different because it is research-based. I want to write about what you think about the fathers of the streaming services like Netflix, and the newcomers like Disney+. Please note that if you leave a comment, they may be published on this website. Feel free to leave your name in there if you’d like a shout. The survey link is here.
  3. Here’s is an additional 30-second survey on Disney Plus. If you’ve already purchased a membership (or not) let me know your thoughts.
  4. It seems like the blog will be quiet until the end of December. Please bear with me until I go through this transitional season of life. Read more about it below.
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A painting we had in our old house. Dancers in Blue, c.1895 by Edgar Degas.

 

 

Dear Universe and its lovely people,

You might have noticed that Hazal’s Camera has been quiet lately… not because I stopped filtering life, but because I didn’t have time to personally deliver what’s been going on in my head to you. This morning something was off. I put on a pair of sparkly teal-colored socks that my grandma gave me during a time of holidays that I was surprisingly home. I named them the Tinker Bell socks, just this morning, and promised myself that I’d make some magic. So, here we are forcing the sparkles of inspiration to enter the room and break the blocks. 

Some may call this the writer’s block but I will call it the last thirty days before graduation, mercury’s millionth retrograde, juggling to keep a home happy, and neglecting my only meditation. A good friend once told me I was a good writer because I kept writing. I kept doing what seemed so hard for her. Then, I realized I quit this very paragraph to watch a film with my significant other and check a list of errands for tomorrow.  

On this particular day or in this particular time of my life words don’t flow freely on the water. They are collected by the seaweeds, accumulated for what seems like an eternity. Things haven’t been always this way. Hence, I don’t have a clear head nor a clear physical space. It might explain the metaphors that I tried to hide behind.

The moral of the story is simple. In a month, I will have a degree. I will also be unemployed. I will wait a little for my Tinker Bell then. But, who knows? The teal-colored socks might make some magic on their own.

See you in a month, friend.

-H

[Short Story] Placed Upon the Horizon

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Photo Credits: beenhereseenthat.wordpress.com

She took the same pathway she always did that day while many preferred the library on West Georgia St. She couldn’t take the lung sucking, dark walls anymore. At the end of the pathway, right there, she saw the man-made waterfall that sprinkled a few drips on the marble steps she intended to quickly climb. She felt… refreshed and said to herself, “The best in town. It doesn’t get better than this”. She was right, it was right in the middle of the tall piles of bricks.

She found her spot on the stairs at the very top. Carelessly slamming her messenger bag on the ground, she took out a crammed stack of papers, some discolored, a couple perfectly white, and placed them on her lap to grab a bite of the crab apple she brought for lunch. Before getting her pencil to do its magic, she took a look towards the Art Gallery standing across the marble stairs, with stairs of its own, so gracefully. Her eyes followed the engraved phrase below the roof of the building: Placed upon the horizon (Casting Shadows). “Sounds Biblical”, unimpressed, she said it out loud this time. On her right, there was a woman worshipping her coffee, trying to place her phone at the right spot to update her social media feed. “Similar things”, she thought. Continue reading