It’s been a month since I have posted anything. I think of all kinds of things to write about, but just can’t seem to get the space in my head or the space in silence to write. I have a seventeen month old.
I guess I should adjust. Shift. Shake it out. Dance in the rhythm of the noise. But I just need that quiet space. That extended highway of silence. The circus keeps blaring and the noise never negotiates.
Really, most of the time I am just too damn tired to write. The discipline is not there. At the end of the day, I just want to close my eyes and snuggle with my husband or son.
But I hold tight to these thoughts of perfection, like a closed toddler grip. My essay has to be perfect. It has to be edited. Has to be meaningful. Has to be thorough. Has to reach someone. Has to make someone smile or shed a tear.
F that. Excuse my french. But no other word will do. I need to abandon that and just write for f’s sake.
So here is a rainstorm with some soft dewy raindrops and some thick hail about my life. I promise to post an essay soon.
The writing spider is gone. I went on vacation to New England for a week and when I came home and she was gone. Only her scattered remains of her web were in the garden.
And the slideshow is all I am able to get out this morning as my toddler pokes the computer, grabs the computer, grabs me, demands I listen, demands I be present with him. Ben thinks we are co-authors. Feel frazzled and fragmented as I write this. There is so much I want to share and update. Like about my trip to New Hampshire and how I was in my sister-in-law’s wedding. And the trip to the Kangamangus Highway in New Hampshire.
Got to go – toddler take over. Biting. Crying. Head bonking. Got a little more time – I am nursing him now. Talk about multi tasking! Now back to toddler take over. I give up. Head bonk to the chin. Now toddler hug. Oh the many emotions of motherhood. He is pretty darn cute. And as I get ready to hit the publish button (without proofing it to be perfect), toddler is giving me bubble kisses. Then the head bonk to the chin. He is standing between my legs as I sit in his little people chair and type at his little people table, school bus yeloow and royal blue.
PS – I am getting ready to go to the South Carolina’s Writer’s Conference in Myrtle Beach this weekend to pitch The Original Journal (click on link on the sidebar to “like” it on facebook) to literary agents. Two of the agents I am pitching to are looking for gift books. So the timing could be right. One thing I have to steer clear of is wanting a publisher or an agent to validate this project. I have to keep believing in it. After all, I have been working on this book project since 1996. Here is a picture of the sticky note collection, “Just Stick Its.” They are designed to ignite the muse and amuse the mind. Go to the facebook page to see the sticky note collection. Image is not uploading.