The Atlantic
Today, I delved into my writerly self, the one I have been ignoring for about a month. Since December 17th, I have written only two stories, on poem, and this blog. That is like saying I left the house without my left arm every day. I don’t know what happened to my right brain.
Perhaps too, too many hours of Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model acted as battery acid, eating through all that was good in my mind, but there it is. I nearly stopped doing the one thing I love best.
It is good to be back here where I can breathe and feel like a part of a community that moves.
Winter seems to be waiting, but tomorrow, I am making my first annual winter beach trip anyway. I love cloudy beaches. The ocean loses a little bit of character when the sun is too bright. (So do I, if you want to know the truth.)
Three cheers for Brooklyn! Make some plans for times of unseasonable weather.
Ooh Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model. Guulty pleasures that keep me from my work as well. I feel your pain. Gosh, the last time I wrote a poem, it was an amazing feeling. But that was almost a month and a half ago. Yikes.