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That's Turtle, asleep...doesn't he look uncomfortable? What a bizarre position to be sleeping in...and yet, he's OUT COLD.
Maybe I take it too seriously? Maybe I don’t take it seriously enough? Maybe I spend too much time thinking about it, and not nearly enough time just doing it? Maybe I just suck at it, or maybe I just think I do, and it prevents me from just letting it happen? Or maybe, I think I’m too good at it, and therefore, am unsatisfied to produce less than stellar results, which in turn, prevents me from doing it at all?
Whatever the case may be…lately, I’m just not writing very much at all.
And I miss it.
I will sit at the computer, staring at that damned blinking cursor and think to myself “there MUST be something I have to say, anything…” but nothing happens, my fingers don’t move across the keyboard, the words won’t form in my imagination, my mind, just as the screen, is blank, but for that damn nagging cursor…
It’s as if it taunts me with each flash: “you can do it,” “no, you can’t” “yes you can” “No you can’t”…
And eventually, it wins, I quit. Look away, ashamed to find no words on the screen, no ideas in my mind, nothing to show for my attempts.
If a writer runs out of words, can she still call herself a writer?
The yearning to create, the desire to string words together into a thought that makes sense, is ever present, ever strong.
In the back of my mind, the ideas swirl, tease, lap at the edges of my subconscious like waves at the shore, ever rising, but ebbing away just before I can get my toes wet…
Now and again, I catch a tiny splash of water, and I think, finally, I'll quench my thirst…but just as quickly, as if struck by a forceful ray of sunshine, the thought evaporates, leaving me parched, and wondering just where it was I was headed…lost in a desert, grasping at the mirage.
It was just there, a moment ago, that great idea that would change it all, the plot point I’ve been needing to turn it all around. I saw it, I held it, I let it get away once again.
When the muse has packed his bags and left you, can you ever coax him back into your arms?
I hear his laughter, and am unsure if he’s laughing with me, or simply at me, at my inability to make peace with him. I whisper sweet nothings in his ear, make promises of delivering dreams beyond his wildest imagination, if only he would stick around for a time, help me stay focused for a while…
But he laughs, he scolds, he shakes his head and walks away…”You’re not ready” he says “you can’t handle this relationship right now, you need time, we need space”.
“But I miss you,” I counter “I miss our talks, I miss our moments sitting together, saying nothing, but saying it all, I miss your hand on my shoulder as I sit hunched over the keyboard, letting the words flow, encouraging me, cheering me on…”
“You’re simply too distracted” he says “give it time, I’ll be back when the time is right”…
I want to cry out after him, I want to beg him to stay, but perhaps he’s right…perhaps this is one of those occasion they speak of, “If you love him, let him go, if it is meant to be, he’ll come back to you”…
Oh Muse, how I pray it is…I don’t know that I can survive without you, without your caress, encouragement, without the sweet release of words on paper…how I ache for that sensation…
Maybe I’m too needy, maybe I’m not attentive enough. Maybe I’m too desperate, maybe I’m careless…maybe just maybe I’m beginning to break through the wall.
Whatever it may be…I feel the stirring of a writer within me once again…slowly beginning to rise from the deep slumber…
This is my last week guest hosting Popinjay for Michelle. She’ll be taking it back next Monday, and I just wanted to say thank you to her for trusting me (as well as some other wonderful ladies) with her meme while she needed some time away. Michelle, we’re glad you are back and ready to take it back. ;-)
That being said, I’m a little late in posting this week, because Monday holidays always throw me off my game…I forgot what day it was yesterday…oops.
So, without further ado, this week’s prompt was “Doubt”.
This was quite a tough one for me. Initially, especially after last week’s prompt of “Faith”, I thought for sure that my photograph would have to have something to do with my “doubts” in faith. I struggle with those often, after all.
But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it didn’t feel right. Yes, I have questions, and moments of struggle, but I’m not sure I can truly call them “doubts”…I don’t ever really doubt my faith.
So then, what doubts could I focus on for this post? And rest assured, my life is indeed filled with moments of doubt, uncertainty, reservation and hesitation. But what to focus on? Which to choose? And more importantly, how to capture one in a photograph?
And then, I found this photo on my phone:
This one image is such a profound expression of this week’s prompt for reasons possibly not visible to your eyes.
First of all, this is not the first, or only image of myself in a mirror which has then not been shared with anyone.
Secondly, notice the positioning of the phone, meant to cover my face.
I have struggled with my self-esteem my entire life. I have never been the type to feel beautiful, or even pretty, and I have never been photogenic, in fact, I have always hated photographs of myself. ALWAYS.
But if you know me, you also know I love fashion, clothes, shoes, accessories.
And I love to share the outfits I come up with with others. SO, that was the intent of this photo (and several others stored in my phone, but not shared). I wanted to share this outfit on Twitter.
But when I took the photo, and looked at it, I just couldn’t do it.
I was immediately filled with doubt, self-consciousness, and fear. Maybe that dress didn’t look as good on me as I thought it did when I put it on. Maybe my hair looked terrible. Maybe…maybe…maybe I shouldn’t share it after all.
They say the camera adds 10 pounds, but I believe it adds so much more than that…time to reflect, and criticize, and yes, doubt.
This is an inner struggle only I can work out for myself…but yeah…there it is…doubt.
Where do your doubts lie?