I’ve hit a wall. Figuratively; although, I’ve also stumbled into my fair share of literal walls lately as well. The wall that’s in my way right now is, well, I suppose it would be more like two walls…a corner possibly? I can’t seem to find the power to write anything…not even useless drivel. A creative thought would be desperate to find its way from head to the paper right now. I can’t think clearly enough to write anything that even I would want to read. That’s not the purpose of writing I know. You don’t write for others. You write the words that form the worlds in your head. I can’t find them though. All the thoughts, worlds, people, ideas, all of it that floats around (or rather stumbles) around in my head are so jumbled up right now I can’t focus on any one of them enough to breathe life into them. They are there. I feel them. See them. Taste them. They sing to me in the car…dance around my mental eye going nana nana boo boo. But the words won’t come to me. Just the ideas. They seem to come the best while I’m driving to and from work…a 29 ½ mile stretch one way and while I’m a mom of three and can multitask with the best of them, I have yet figured out how to write and drive at the same time without killing those around me.
While I struggle with my word block and while I am not taking any classes at the moment, I thought I would pour myself into some good books (even some not so good books). They idea of reading without having to analyze the content was so thrilling. The number of books I’ve read thus far this summer? One. One stinking book. I’ve carried several around but I can’t even focus on my reading and I LOVE reading. I have lost focus. Focus in everything. There are so many directions I want to focus on but I can’t even focus long enough to list what I need to focus on.
What’s a girl to do when her creative muses play hide and seek? Oh and they play so cruelly. They hide well enough I can’t find them when I want to give them their time (and their time to control their destinies on the pages or in the pages). Yet they poke their little mischievous heads out enough to let me know they are near and have so very much to share. They run off snickering at my total loss of control with them. Like children they taunt me. Like teens they drive me the edge and smile. Never pushing me off but never giving me space to turn and control what they are doing…or not doing. I miss the time I spent with them…both the time giving them life by putting their words down on paper and by entertaining them with the stories of others. I feel like I am in literary limbo. I can’t create and I can’t let the created in either. I miss my moments in both the creating and created realms.
I’ll sit here now; letting them come and go as they please until perhaps they’ll bore and come home to me. Let me nurture them; mold them; shape them into what they are to be. Even share them with the rest of the world. They entertain me even now. Now, when I have not control; no handle on them. They put smiles on my face; tears in my eyes; even a thump in my heart. I know that someday they’ll let me share them with someone else but for now I can take comfort in the knowledge that they did not leave me totally. And that is enough to pacify me…for now.
What Composes Cat?
- Cat
- An avid reader, life long writer, and lover of life, I am here to shares my love of books and writing in hopes to spread a little knowledge and entertainment to the rest of the world. (and truthfully...to help make sense of it all) A common theme is the ramblings of my bipolar world which I share without shame so no one else has to hide or be ashamed of themselves or the ones they love. Knowledge is power and the more you know the more you grow.
I DID IT!!
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