juicing up


It’s happening as it does in unpredictable cycles, this dip in productivity, a heightened fear of failure, of putting myself out there — all resulting in…nothing. No creative juices, no brilliant bits of prose, or beautiful photographs or even a particularly inspired bit of home organization.

I don’t know if it’s a seasonal thing — summer certainly wore me out psychically.  I lacked  a spiritual room of my own, no schedule per se with fragmented, hectic mothering and coordinating to do. As for recharging — ha! Summer is a frantic race to pack it all in, “enjoy” the outdoors, wring the most of every sweltering, shortlived minute.

So to reiterate, I am not recharged, revivied, renewed. I am creatively drained. I’ve started writing at least five posts in the last few months of my hiatus and either finshed one and hated it, or didn’t finish it because I lacked any feeling around it. They all felt wrong and overworked. I was afraid of not being “perfect,” a word that sits like a bitter berry in my throat with one hell of an aftertaste.

Thus I am freewriting today, an exercise I haven’t done since college, but one that has been used by writers through the ages to end a “block.”  There is a simple joy in not worrying too much about how something will turn out, what the tie-in will be and whether what I write will appeal to my readers. If this isn’t the most profound or topical of blog entries I apologize, but it’s probably my most personal blog  in a way, a crying out for nourishment from my poor, starving little muse. It is what I needed today. And it is enough.

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