Staring at Nothing

And I wonder: what will it be like tonight? What will I write, what will I advent? The whole point of this exercise, this post tonight is to roll the dough out underneath my fingers and get it nice and thin.  Roll out the creativity before me, get it nice and spread out before me so all I can see are my words and my worlds and then I can begin to etch them out of the vastness before me.

The point is to take it all and cast my normal everyday aside so I can pull from the depths of myself and find my characters waiting to show me what they've been up to since I was away and where it is all going to go someday.

I feel the waves begin to crash further into the shore.  The tide is still coming in.  Soon it will falter and the tide will begin to wash back out.  I must ready my vessel, so I can ride out with the going tide and sail upon the waters in this brisk beautiful moonlight.  The stars above will guide me.

And so it goes, and so it goes. And so it will always go.

Sleeping Sisters

While two little ones drift into dreams beside me, I, myself, drift into a waking dream of a world I've spun.

While two nestle and snuggle into their rest, their breathing slowing and evening into a soft whisper of waves upon the Eastern shore, my breathing slows and evens as I envelope myself into my written word.

While their bodies relax and the lullaby plays out into silence, my body relaxes and the silence blossoms into the narration of my heart.

As they slumber in the peace of the room, my soul alights in the fire of inspiration, and I am awakened in my verse.

I have waited all day and late into the evening for this...

Blackberry Lemonade

I've had some flights of fancy, finding the inspired winds and allowing myself to flow along them like a leaf caught up in the trail of it all.  And I've had my moments where I, the leaf, have gotten entangled in a branch and had to painstakingly extricate myself and wait again for that wind to blow.

It has been wondrous and chaotic and adventurous and worrying and more.  I am enraptured in it all because on it goes and on it flows.  So long as I keep coming back and doing all I can maybe someday I can do it everyday, all day and late into the night if need be.  And no longer would I be shackled to the idea of hiding away myself in order to "be the adult."

I may be an adult, but still will I forever dance in the rain and watch the wind flow through the leaves of the tree on a blanket in Spring.  Still will I forever be me and that I will never change.  Still will I forever dream, and still will I forever wish on a dandelion star, and still will I gaze at the stars above and wonder about the heavens beyond.

That is who I am.  That is who I always will be.  And that is my writing.  How I hope for it to be.

But without hard work, I know, nothing grows but weeds (Quote taken from the great mind of Gordon B. Hinckley).