Tuesday, October 11, 2005

The Block of the Writer

I used to be able to sit down and write every night. I could settle myself anywhere and the words would come rushing. Looking back, I am not even sure that I was truly inspired by anything in particular.

When I lived in Washington DC, I would rush home to my little one room apartment (which cost me $1250 a month- yowza!) and hurry through the sushi take out I would inevitably pick up on the way home (the best sushi ever... mmm). Pouring a glass of wine to wash down the remnants of wasabi still in my mouth and then settling on my balcony. A great view. Watching the cars, the people, the bustle of the city, all from my little perch high above them all. A bottle of wine next to me, and a notepad and paper (I was too poor for a laptop back then). When it got too dark I'd turn on all the lights in my apartment and face them toward the window, thus illuminated my little creative haven. I would write and write until I was a little too tipsy to chicken scratch, or too tired to see in the dim lights of the city.

My life was chaotic back then. Confusing and, to be honest, a mess. I spent most of my days stumbling through the drama (not floating as I do now!) and hoping to make it out with all my limbs in tact. Apparently, that helps feed my creative spirit. I can't motivate myself to sit and write on my book these days. And sometimes, if I'm being completely honest, I don't even know what to blog about. Which is ridiculous... It's a journal! And I, being the most emotional person on the planet (trust me, it's a proven fact), have nothing to say? Fugettaboutit...

I want to be inspired to write again. But I certainly have no interest in going back to that confusing tunnel I was trapped in a few years ago.

My life has a direction- and it's finally a direction that I love.

I just wish I could write more while I'm traveling.
posted by Kellie @ 8:48 AM |


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