Strange day today, most of it spent working with my hands in the frameshop, but working on things that needed some thought put into them. Blasted the stereo up as well, because it is difficult to think sometimes if I can really just move on the music and be satisfied mentally with that. Just wanted one day without my mind stuck in creative mode. I know this is like complaining of having too much too eat, and to my writer friends, I do apologize because I have been through writer’s block many times, and hearing someone moaning over a constant stream of narrative would, I’m sure, inspire a train of murderous thoughts at the very least. But to quote the honorable Kermit, “it isn’t easy being green.” There are always hundreds of sides to every story, and we often must walk the edges of them all simultaneously.
Allowing myself only two questions to put forth, and receiving these answers from different sources: “Done.” “Don’t.”
Both questions related in some way to writing, and in a round-about manner, to my inclination for now to have disconnected Talespinning with its load of narrative and just maintain its orbit in outer space without radio contact with anyone but the mother ship.
Simple answers beget generations of questions; and I’ll have to deal with them I suppose.
I believe I need a dish of ice cream.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology