Back to the blog
I started blogging in the spring of 2005 and, for the next several years,
blogging became this magical doorway to myself: my artwork, my vision
for the person I wanted to become and the life I wanted to lead.
I wrote as a way of figuring things out, a place to always lead me towards
brightness and hope when the darkness pulled at my heels.
It was a place I could combine imagery and words and share little pieces
of myself with whomever happened to pass by.
I had always been a writer ~ since I was young and madly typing stories on a
plastic blue typewriter on Stanley Street. I tried my hand at poetry and fiction, liked aspects of both, but neither felt like the right fit. But blogging, somehow, felt like coming home.
But as usual, life happens, my son was born, and I fell out of the practice.
I’d post something every now and then, but I just didn’t feel the same pull towards it. It felt more like an assignment than a passion. And in the past few years, as I’ve tried to take steps to succeed as an artist by having more of a clear online presence, I moved my blog from it’s original home : Poemfish to match up with my current art website.
For a while, that was my excuse. Well, the magic of blogging for me was in my original blog, right?! When I switched, the inspiration was gone. And I had a son now. If ever there was a reason to look up from the keyboard, it was now, right?! I kind of fell into this all or nothing mentality and started to be really hard on myself. I convinced myself it was all about outside forces and I had no control over it. I didn’t realize that my writing was still what it had been all along. A choice. My choice.
There was still a quiet aching in my chest to get the words out, to write, to share, to keep dreaming and let the words reach the people they needed to reach (myself included). It was about making a decision to make writing a priority again. And not to apologize for needing that part of my life. It’s who I am. It’s who I’ve always been. Looking at it as a reward instead of a job, as a gift instead of something I should fear or run from, well, that changed everything.
So, here I go, forging a new path with my words. Not needing a specific destination. Just knowing, I’m on the open road, moving forward . . .