It's been long since I've last written.
I wish something ultra-wicked-cool would've happened since then. Something I can shout from the rooftops about. Lead a parade with. Scream to the heavens with thanks.
It's been nothing but writing. Trapped in another world, guided by thoughts, images and emotions that have nothing to do with me personally, but a story my tiny brain churned word by word.
These days much of me is detached from reality. I think it's a normal trait for a writer, or a psycho, whichever sells it better. The not willing to face parts of my life, much of it feeling fragmented, yet to be harvested. I'll pick up those pieces in time.
And though my life feels directionless, there's also this assurance within me that all will make sense in time. A stack and re-stack of goals and passion.
Jenga!
I bet that sounds like your life too.
Update further:
I was recently in New York. My first time. On stand-by, my Coach seat got upgraded to Executive. The empty seat next to me felt like I was swimming in a love seat, minus the love. The hot hand towels were a nice change, the view always a thrill. My friends were several seats behind, their voice and laughter loud enough for my ears to pick up. Headset on I relished the world below, again, awed by God's artistic thumbprint.
1 hour later and self-discovery begins in a city that can easily make one feel small. Drowned in a sea of endless faces, vile scents, and conjoined buildings, I walked the streets, trying to make sense of basic direction. I was continually halting my mind from trying to add and subtract streets - they're almost all numbers within numbers.
Less calculating, more picture taking.
Bryant Park on a Monday night was the place I'll remember most. Even though walking through it, my eyes were humbled to see the sight of hundreds of people gathered, cozied on iron chairs, their half-eaten food left on the table or still in their hand. Whether couples, singles or groups of friends and strangers, my heart melted for a moment. So thankful for the sight of it and for everyone. We're so lucky, I don't know if we realize how lucky we are.
Off on another continent war ravages the soil and soul of so many. Blood is normal to see stained on the ground. Hate is easily related to. Kids are orphaned. Parents lose children. Hate keeps devouring this endless cycle.
Then there's this fragment of time and space: Bryant Park on Monday Movie Night. Woody Woodpecker starts the show, his intro laughter reminding everyone moments of their childhood - the heart smiles wide. I think E.T. was playing that night. I love E.T.
I'll be there for the next show, next time I'm In NYC.
I guess there is something to scream to heavens for.
