I'm not really sure what the hell I want to write about. I'm feeling a bit in a funk these past few days and I'm not sure why. I do know, I'm suffering from writer's block for the first time in a long time. I spoke to my friend, Delia, about this last night and we both came to a rather startling conclusion. It seems that most of the people that enter my life feel the need to fix me. That's quite an amazing thought, since I've spent the past 17 years taking care of myself and my kids without anyone giving a damn whether I lived or died, or even existed for that matter. So, now I'm in this state of being surrounded by people that care about me, but really don't get who I am with the exception of a few.
There is a depth to the fragmentation that makes me who I am, and it lies hidden in places I won't let others see. It's my own personal universe and sharing it with anyone would be unfathomable. It is the deepest, darkest, and truest part of what I represent in this existence. I've let bits and pieces of myself go, here and there, shared parts of myself, now and then, but honestly, if I really let it go, people would freak. I am not who people see me as, I'm not that poor soul that has lived a hard life and needs to be told to put it away and walk into the light, the world of love and laughter, sunflowers and rainbows. I am so much more. I thrive in the darker places that nature provides for those like me. I love the rain, thunder, lightning, the night, exploring the twisted wreckage of twisted minds. It intrigues me.
Every time I try to deviate away from that inner core that writes about the not so pleasant things in life, living, and dying, the blankness enters my mind, my soul, my body, and my spirit. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about love, compassion, helping society, and all the things that should be in the forefront for humanity. The reality is, that's not reality. We live in times where things happen that cause people to shake their heads and wonder what the hell is going on in the world today.
I've tried to deny that part of myself through time and each time I do, when I return, I go deeper and deeper into a world that intrigues me to the depths and stimulates my mind with questions, ideas, and thoughts.
I've had so many muses in my lifetime that have inspired different parts of my creative journey. It's a beautiful thing in hindsight and refelction and wonderful pieces have come from those interactions. Truth be told, the muses come to me in so many ways, when I least expect them and most need them. I'm museless right now, really for the first time in what seems like forever. I am a blank slate, an empty vessel, virgin snow in a vast open place untouched by human interaction. It's where I need to be right now. It's what I need to feel right now. Vast, empty, alone, and ready for an inundation of emotions, memories, and thoughts that will clear the way for me to create again. This has been a cyclical process, yet, this time there is a different air to it all. I'll not even try to explain it, you can read it when the damn breaks...
