Back to the sunlight
I’ve been quiet lately as I battled a cold/flu thing that seemed to absorb most of April. I don’t get sick often but I made up for lost opportunities with this particular bug. I’m pretty much over it now and am predictably obsessed with lifestyle improvements so I don’t get so run down again. Being confined to the couch for a few days made me realize how much energy I’ve put out without what is quaintly termed “refilling the well.” By the end of my down time I began to feel creative in a way I haven’t in a very long time. That spark that gives us our art is very strong, but it’s not indestructible. I realized the crazy, electric wildfire of ideas that rattles around in my head had dulled, but I hadn’t noticed the fact until it came roaring back. Now my job is to keep it safe.
The biggest hazard to any creative person is the world we exist in. Stress is universal, but writers have a strange add-on bundle comprised of self-doubt, well-meant advice that leaves us feeling like compost, and a crazy industry. I can make a grandiose statement about how it’s our responsibility to endure it, but that only makes people want to punch the speaker.
May has to be a better month. It started with the best weather we’ve had so far and I took this photo on May Day. I love the touch of blood read in the depths of these saw-toothed tulips. They’re beautiful but sinister if you have the right kind of warped imagination.