Time and Light Switches

Hair stuck in my lip balm, feels like living. Catching falling leaves, and jumping in snow drifts.  Allowing my creativity to leak into my everyday life, scraps of poetry in my journal, and doodles in my margins, dancing in the shower, and singing in the kitchen. Its realizing creativity can be found everywhere and anywhere you’re willing to look for it.  I tend to think creativity is reserved for my art studio, not realizing I was stifling my own process. So I’m trying to find it in all the ‘dandelion growing through the cracks’ of life. Trying to write down every fleeting thought and idea, cause I’m forgetful.  I suppose right now its not about making ‘good’ art, or even pursuing excellence, I think for me right now its about practice. About simply excising creativity, I’ll make it pay rent another day, for now I’ll just build the foundations.  So editing is a slow and tedious process that leaves very little to talk about, its all about sentence structu...

So the small update in the way of book writing, is that I’m still editing and it's not all the exciting to talk about. Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying myself, just doesn’t make for great content.   So here are some of my recent thoughts about life. ~ I’ve been thinking a lot about how a quantity of time spent with someone will never make up for the quality. I spent six months with people who remain more dear to me, than people I spent two years with.  Been thinking about how the thought of moving has lost its sting but not its ache.  Been thinking about where I am in the world, where I am in life, and how maybe it’s right and maybe it’s wrong. How I can’t quite tell.  Been thinking that perhaps I’d like a quiet life, but then maybe I’d like a loud one. How I can’t quite decide what exactly I want.  I’ve been feeling a lot of stillness, in a way I don’t really like as much as I should. That feeling the peace in the storm sometimes feels good and som...

  I have encountered a new peculiarity, I can’t read. To be specific and a little less dramatic I am in a reading slump and can’t seem to enjoy a book right now. Any book. Okay for more background I am a reader, I love to read and have since I was 12. So to find myself unable to love any book is a struggle.   Let me explain. I started working on my second draft of what will be my first novel, been hard at work on it for a few more than a few weeks. Since I finished my read through of the first draft I’ve had a difficult time getting into a book. I’m no stranger to a reading slump, but this one feels different because from what I can tell its writing induced.  I’m constantly surprised by just how much my creative process impacts my life outside of just the art parts. I never would have guessed that my writing could get in the way of my reading, and now having seen that is words I realize how silly it is. Still I didn’t see it coming.  So don’t mind me, I’ll be o...

This is a sadder story then I meant it to be, then I ever wanted to write or intended to share. I’ll give you a spoiler out right, it has a happy ending, and still it feels like such a sad story to me. They can see the beauty in my ashes but all I see is fire.   I started in on the edits for my book, I marked up the first draft and now I’m creating the second draft. But I got all of two pages in and it got to me. I don’t always embrace change the way I ought to. I’m a messy human, I’m not ashamed or embarrassed by all the mistakes and editing that my book needs, I think I’m horrified by how revealing the story is. How clear a mirror it puts to me.  One thing you should know about me as a writer is that when it comes to stories, I’ll put my character through hell but I’ll never not give them a happy ending. I live by the belief that in the end it will be okay and if its not okay than its not the end, so I apply that to my story telling as well. So in all fairness knowing th...