Memento Mori Lab

About Memento Mori Lab

Memento Mori Lab is my latest attempt to explore words and worlds. An excuse to take my creativity on a journey and hopefully inspire you to do the same. Filled with poems, thoughts, unfinished writings, sketches, and ideas, the Memento Mori Lab podcast is made for every creative soul out there. Enough regrets already, it's time to make.

Publisher

Mayra Gomes

Category

arts

Language

en

Explicit

No

First episode

9 Aug 2020

Latest episode

28 Jun 2021

Latest episodes

29 episodes in the feed.

1. 

   28 Jun 2021

   #28 Self-doubt

   The evil that destroys our dreams and leaves us for dead in the dark corner of our minds. Or is it? Maybe not, but still I can't shake the feeling that self-doubt holds us back as artists and there's no magic solution. All we can do is talk about it. What's Memento Mori Lab? Memento Mori Lab is our permission slip to experiment, try new things, and keep bringing ideas to life. In my case, that means writing mediocre poetry, some stories and scripts, doodling, and recording this podcast. Memento Mori reminds us, we are going to die. Whatever creative endeavor you've been postponing, now is the time to take action. 🔥Available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and anywhere you get your podcasts! 👉https://anchor.fm/mementomorilab (https://anchor.fm/mementomorilab) Instagram: @memento.mori.lab (https://instagram.com/memento.mori.lab) Twitter: @mementomorilab (https://twitter.com/mementomorilab) Poems Self-doubt The questions arise, One question at a time. The doubts creep in, Pinning me down. I got no answers. But even if I did, Doubts don't wanna hear them. The answers don't matter. Doubts grow stronger, louder, brighter. The self recoils to the dark corner, Afraid to see any more question marks. Terrified of the answers and scars. Stuck in a cycle of seeing both all the time. Self doubt, delusion. It's all the self really knows Second guessing itself by default. The self remains in the darkness, The fire burnt out. The self doubts it all, It's too dark, It sees nothing. It can only hear the outside Confirmation of doubts. It trusts made up stories, Rumours, strangers and experts. Inadequate, the self locks itself, And bathes in ashes Of Doubts burnt question marks. Of dreams burnt in self-doubt. - Soundtrack Music: Big Boi Pants by Shane Ivers - https://www.silvermansound.com (https://www.silvermansound.com) Music: Womp by Shane Ivers - https://www.silvermansound.com (https://www.silvermansound.com)

2. 

   3 May 2021

   #27 Finding Ourselves

   Should we really be looking for ourselves? Maybe this whole trying to find myself journey is a hoax and there’s a better way, but it’s hard to swim against the current when you don’t even know where you’re swimming to. This episode is even more confusing than this description but it might all make sense in the end. What's Memento Mori Lab? Memento Mori Lab is our permission slip to experiment, try new things, and keep bringing ideas to life. In my case, that means writing mediocre poetry, some stories and scripts, doodling, and recording this podcast. Memento Mori reminds us, we are going to die. Whatever creative endeavor you've been postponing, now is the time to take action. 🔥Available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and anywhere you get your podcasts! 👉https://anchor.fm/mementomorilab (https://anchor.fm/mementomorilab) Instagram: @memento.mori.lab (https://instagram.com/memento.mori.lab) Twitter: @mementomorilab (https://twitter.com/mementomorilab) Poems Seasons - Available on Not Poetry (https://medium.com/not-poetry/seasons-49be259b5b52) (Medium publication) - In a Box I could fit just fine at first. The box had enough room. Me and my delusions. But I grew a bit taller, The box felt smaller, Until I could no longer be. I did what we all do, Replaced it for a bigger one. For me and more delusions. I kept the memories in a shoebox. Tokens of a well-lived cardboard life. After years of changing boxes, I realized, No matter the size, I'd always outgrow them. None of them could last forever. I would not last forever. Why waste time on the perfect fit for a day? I was never meant to be in a box. Nothing will fit anymore and that's for the better. - Soundtrack Dreamers by Nettson | https://soundcloud.com/nettson Music promoted by https://www.free-stock-music.com Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en_US (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en_US) Ambivert by | e s c p | https://escp-music.bandcamp.com Music promoted by https://www.free-stock-music.com Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/)

3. 

   12 Apr 2021

   #26 Thoughts

   If you are human, then chances are, you live more in your thoughts than objective reality. But we are not our thoughts and we often forget that. We don't realize how much our thoughts affect us but questioning these thoughts can be the path to more freedom in our creative process and in our lives. What's Memento Mori Lab? Memento Mori Lab is our permission slip to experiment, try new things, and keep bringing ideas to life. In my case, that means writing mediocre poetry, some stories and scripts, doodling, and recording this podcast. Memento Mori reminds us, we are going to die. Whatever creative endeavor you've been postponing, now is the time to take action. 🔥Available on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and anywhere you get your podcasts! 👉https://anchor.fm/mementomorilab (https://anchor.fm/mementomorilab) Instagram: @memento.mori.lab (https://instagram.com/memento.mori.lab?igshid=1wz55ueuk60at) Twitter: @mementomorilab (https://twitter.com/mementomorilab) Poems Pile of Thoughts I had pages and pages of thoughts All the thoughts I could think of. It was time to get them out of my head. Once and for all. All written down in front of me to see. They all just sounded nothing like me. They piled on, thought after thought. A never ending stream of thoughts. A train of thought, then another. I couldn't remember boarding that train, And yet, there I was, sitting by the window, Listening to the clickety-clack of the tracks. Once again, I ended up nowhere. I ran out of paper, but never of thought. I ran out of ink, I ran out of steam, I ran out of time, but never of thought. Hours wasted on a trip I never meant to take. Days worn out by catastrophic scenarios Months gone with the what ifs of tomorrow. Years dissolved into irrational fears and regret. And yet, the thoughts kept running wild. I got tired of this race I could never win. I sat down in the only seat I could find. Right behind the mind. Suddenly, I could see it all. The piles and streams, the race, the trips, The trains, the steam, the pain, the scenes. None of it was me. None of it was mine. - Slow Motion, soon on Not Poetry (https://medium.com/not-poetry)

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Spotify

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