Inspiration

I've been basking in the joy of my Wednesday night poetry infustion at the Lobby in St. Petersburg, Florida. I had the opportunity to meet two amazing artists that moved me in ways I haven't been moved in a long time. Their words struck me to the core and made me want to rush home and write. Of course that didn't happen since I got home at 2:30 a.m., got to sleep at 3:30 a.m., and had to get up for work at 7:00 a.m. Nonetheless, it's always worth it to go. Shadokat from North Jersey and Heather from Brooklyn were an absolute treat to the senses.

I realized I had to get back out there, back into the scene, back into my element to help fuel my recent block. It's not so much that I can't write as of late, it's more about not being sure what to write about. There are so many emotions flowing through me right now, and honestly, I'm on overload. Now, I'm not complaining, it's a fabulous feeling and I revel in it. I know it's all part of the process.

I feel as though I'm heading into a new level of creativity and it's inspiring to say the least. It's amazing how things unfold when one "Allows" things to fall into place without trying to make it happen. Inevitably, the Universe always provides and for that I am grateful.

Not a typical Sunday night

So, here I am on a Sunday night, wondering where my weekend went again. The weekends seem to fly with with unimaginable speed, while the weekdays drag on laboriously. I spent a few hours at a friends house this evening and was amazed at how I felt when I left. I saw two people that are very special to me surrounded by love and passion, even though they are facing hard times right now. They have three young children, boys, who are filled with more energy than I can ever remember having. Though they are raising those three boys in a struggling economy, with so little time for themselves, they still manage to produce amazingly creative work. They are both very driven people with dreams they hold onto with every breath they take. I admire them both so very much.

I have raised my children, both adults now, and I still can't seem to find the energy or drive to make things happen. It scares me. It makes me wonder if the years of struggling to survive have drained me to the point of complacent surrender. I'm really tired. You would think that would be the greatest catalyst of all, wanting to follow my dream and enjoy what time I have left, without the struggle, without being in the box, without having to punch a clock. I actually see this all as a bizarre oxymoron.

The few people I have let get close to me are so amazingly talented and interesting. I thrive around them and am grateful to have them in my life. I know that whatever is holding me back is doing so for a reason. I have tried to deviate away from the style and content of what I have written in the past, and I must say, it's a battle. A very wise man once told me to "write what you know" and I have stuck to that through the years. It's what I don't know that aches to be explored. Problem is, I don't kow what the hell I should be exploring.

This is the quintessential battle between the two sides of me. I feel the time has come to allow the side of me that is most prolific and true to my emotions to run free, unencumbered by any restraints that create the sensation that I've crossed boundaries.

I write what I feel, I write what I experience, I write what I know.