has it been two months?
I’m writing in my head too much these days, with scant time taken to put pen to paper, and little to none set aside for even typing. life happens and I can’t stop writing, life happens and I don’t write at all. I’m in the middle of a should-be-writing-all-the-time time. at least this box is open, cursor blinking at me.
that’s not writing. that’s typing.
I know, I know. but starting is better than nothing.
life right now is a series of harsh, backhanded slaps to the face coupled with beautiful, gracious gestures: death and weddings. utter hopelessness / total joy. it begs for me to create things, but I’m afraid to let the art in me come out. little voices grown loud, telling me how stupid my ideas are. the noise wins the war more often than not.
I argue with myself constantly, and part of me sits silently in the corner of my head, observing. waiting for things to work themselves out. except ultimately, I’m the one who needs to step in and mediate.
may we always have patience, for we are on the right road.
in the same breath as all of this:
there’s tiny, tiny victories. little breakthroughs get through the cracks somehow. suddenly, I can hear everything as clear as day and I have bursts where I can close the gap. I’m here, typing. I opened my paints. I sketched some ideas. I started the bones of the new site. and I remember suddenly that it’s not all for nothing, after all.
and slowly, ever slowly, things improve. or at least look very much like something just like improving.
gentleness is a virtue, I suppose. to be continued.