I've written and written this morning, but the next part of this narrative is difficult and for once, I will go back and rework it. It must be suggestive and not graphic. It should barely suggest at all. I don't know what will happen with it, really. It may end up in the garbage. I only know that it is taking too much time this morning and I must leave it. A bump in the road.
I have been both anxious and catatonic of late. A weird and terrible combination. I am supposed to be on vacation, supposed to be somewhere else, but I have failed to make decisions, failed to book flights, so I sit in the shade of oaks and palms cast through the window by the early morning sun thinking and fretting. Where will I go? And with thinking and fretting goes my summer vacation. Frustration.
"The problem with most people," my ex-friend once told me, "is that they don't know what they want." The words are haunting me just now. He is right, of course. We are slaves to indecision. No, not you. I am. It is The Curse.
But an excellent picture you chose to post. Hope you work through the writing! I understand fretting and indecision... understand and commiserate!
ReplyDeleteSometimes it's the writing, and sometimes it is something else. I published today what I wrote yesterday without changing much,just adding material before and after.
ReplyDeleteYes, I like the photos from the Holga, too. I am terrified that I won't get back to make more or that if I do, they won't be as good.
More, the voices whisper, there must be more (apologies to D.H. Lawrence).
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ReplyDeleteAt first glance - the photo looks like a pregnant belly and navel. :)
ReplyDeleteI read everyday. I'm just worn out for words.
I try to send you messages via the mind -- I hope you get inklings of them.
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ReplyDeleteLisa,
ReplyDeleteI'm not much of a psychic. Forget words. Stick with letters. They are awfully pretty, some of them. And there are so many fonts.