My new desk J
It’s like coming home, again. Coming home to a place that I never knew was home. It is not permanent and it will change, but it is new and it is where my writing will live. It’s official, and real. I no longer have to write at my kitchen table, though that was a beautiful place to start. I would not be terribly sad if I was still at home there. I am not though, the chance came to get a new home, and I took it. I am so glad I did. It is, and will always be a work in progress, this space. A starting point that moves fluidly through time, cradling my practice and evolving as my practice evolves.
I think I was always meant to be this, to do this. I have written in many forms for a very long time, though I never expected that it would become my work. It has though, and that is just awesome. What a gift to have a skill, a talent that I can turn to when all other venues have failed. And fail they have. I am starting to get that this is the truth of the situation. It’s not me that has failed. Rather it is the venues through which I have sought success that have failed to produce satisfactory results. My failure would be if I stopped trying.
That is not my style.
This new space will refresh my motivation, and remind me to sit down every morning and bang out some pages. I will get back to posting a blog a week, at the very least.
Lovely to be back in the groove, dear readers.
See you soon. J