Now it makes sense...
I've gone from not coming up with the words to put into poetry to being afraid of what might happen when I finally put that pen to the paper. It's been a while since I've written anything substantial. Anything at all, really. Maybe there's been a line here or a phrase there that actually gets to a scrap of paper only to be lost in the black hole that is my still undecorated room.
I do realize that I've been a poet for a while. And while most of my stuff may very well be crap, there's something good that pops up every once in a while. I'm way overdue. There's been too much stuff building up since...geez - I haven't really written anything since college. January 2004. And that was a good one, that last poem.
I thought that I hadn't been writing because I wasn't hearing or reading poetry anymore. I used to go to a weekly poetry group on campus a lot. You'll hear something that clicks with you or sparks something and then you go off of that and write. You bring it back, and something you wrote sparks someone else. It's a great transfer or creative energy that only artists understand. I digress. So I was goin gto Verbal Mayhem once a week, and writing my little heart out.
What happened after that?
Shoestring, graduation, the Evil Place, internship from hell, marathon commutes to NYC, stage managing, Shoestring again, job hunting, moving out, MoMIS, post-corporate hustling, on again-off again-WTF relationships (or quasi/anti relationships), and grad school apps.
::Deep breath::
I didn't have time to write. I still don't have time to write. I guess I do, if I'm sitting here blogging. But I guess I mean emotional time. Taking the time and taking the risk of really sitting down and figuring out how you're doing...at the risk of not liking what you see and completely losing your shit. Thus resulting in the type of mental breakdown that no one can afford these days...we don't have the time.
On the flip side of that, however, is ignoring everything for so long or being too busy to check in that you've got a whole buttload of stuff in your emotional in-box and it's going to get really messy if you don't get it filed immediately.
And now I'm just spouting completely inane references. To amuse myself or someone out there. I don't know.
I guess it's time to write.
I do realize that I've been a poet for a while. And while most of my stuff may very well be crap, there's something good that pops up every once in a while. I'm way overdue. There's been too much stuff building up since...geez - I haven't really written anything since college. January 2004. And that was a good one, that last poem.
I thought that I hadn't been writing because I wasn't hearing or reading poetry anymore. I used to go to a weekly poetry group on campus a lot. You'll hear something that clicks with you or sparks something and then you go off of that and write. You bring it back, and something you wrote sparks someone else. It's a great transfer or creative energy that only artists understand. I digress. So I was goin gto Verbal Mayhem once a week, and writing my little heart out.
What happened after that?
Shoestring, graduation, the Evil Place, internship from hell, marathon commutes to NYC, stage managing, Shoestring again, job hunting, moving out, MoMIS, post-corporate hustling, on again-off again-WTF relationships (or quasi/anti relationships), and grad school apps.
::Deep breath::
I didn't have time to write. I still don't have time to write. I guess I do, if I'm sitting here blogging. But I guess I mean emotional time. Taking the time and taking the risk of really sitting down and figuring out how you're doing...at the risk of not liking what you see and completely losing your shit. Thus resulting in the type of mental breakdown that no one can afford these days...we don't have the time.
On the flip side of that, however, is ignoring everything for so long or being too busy to check in that you've got a whole buttload of stuff in your emotional in-box and it's going to get really messy if you don't get it filed immediately.
And now I'm just spouting completely inane references. To amuse myself or someone out there. I don't know.
I guess it's time to write.
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