My Way of Living + Story

Writing from the heart
Bare trees bright sun

My favourite posts seem to come from somewhere deep inside my heart.
I don’t know why that surprises me so much, but it does.
Those “sit down, what will I write, I can’t think of anything to write about” posts.
Suddenly out of nowhere on a blank screen, a few words meander lazily into view.
Plodding, belligerent, surly teenagers, they won’t turn their heads to look me straight in the eye. Oh go on your way I want to tell them, go off to the other side of the screen, go and text someone, you’re not what I’m looking for.
But being desperate, I’m willing to try and shake some sort of sense out of them, moving, erasing, typing until they start to behave, finding themselves organized into a post. W orked, edited, crossed out, added to… until the finished post has so little to do with what it looked like at it’s birth that it is unrecognizable.

Bare branches of trees

There have been conversations emailed back and forth among us about blogging, why we do it, how we do it, how we feel about it. What inspires us. And not surprisingly I sometimes find snippets of those conversations to be the catalyst for a new post.
Nothing like typing a email with one hand, while the other is taking cryptic notes that no longer make sense a day later. Partial phrases, misspelt words, I find my thoughts to be so fleeting, slipping through fingers, darting into dark cracks of the winter day… that if I don’t write it down immediately it’s gone.
I’m good at writing down only the titles, ignoring the stacks of thoughts that would flesh out the post, hoping to trigger remembrance when I reread the title again. It never works, I should know better, but I don’t.
Mundane tasks are the best for composing posts thoughtlessly folding laundry, while pondering, musing, writing, editing, and then poof it’s gone.
I need a mental save button… I can dream up, and compose a post in my mind, only to find that I can’t remember a word of what I thought to be so elegant a few minutes later. Lasting about as long as a soap bubble drifting in the air.

Bare trees white bark

Inspiration is the key, what makes your heart beat a little faster will more then likely capture someone else's interest also.
Being a visual person, I need to write posts inspired by the images I have taken, each jpeg tells a story, shows a emotion, describes a thought.
When I don’t take the camera out I feel deprived of something to express my creativity.

Bare trees fence posts

To compensate the brain creates posts out of comments, emails, brief ideas that are strung on the clothesline of the brain, tweaking, and imagining until the the laundry is dry and put away. Creativity aired out, gone, with only a subtle whiff of lavender in the air.
The belligerent teenaged words all grown up and now turned into a organized blog post.
Blog on.

Blog, Blogging, Dream, Inspiration, RUN, and more:

Writing from the heart + Story