I've been avoiding you.

I admit it. This is the part of the process where I want to run and hide and not talk about how it's going. I half-hoped that there wouldn't be any readers left so I could hide in peace and not be accountable. Wouldn't that just be lovely? I could run off and ignore all the aching, the sadness, and the shame! But no.
I can't do that. I don't really *want* to do that. And I hope at least a few people are still reading...
I was in a big funk on Monday. I didn't have any work to do (for other people, that is) and I felt completely unmotivated. It was a bit sad, really. I had all day to do whatever I wanted and I just sat on the couch and read. And I cleaned the kitchen a little. Which is the activity I do when I want to feel productive...oh. Wait. I clean for a living. Shit. I'll have to get back to that.
Anyway, I didn't do a thing. I was going to go to the studio, to sew, to feel productive and useful, but I just didn't want to. And the last thing I want to do is use the studio as a punishment or obligation. It's supposed to be a place where I can feel free. Once we add a few changes, it will be nice...I want to be able to read and write there and right now it's very 'sewing' oriented.
I feel better after having worked yesterday, but the lull scared me. There's a lot going on that isn't getting out...I realize that there's a lot lurking in the shadows that needs some airing out.
I am able to write, have the time, space, drive...and yet I am not writing. I either get these huge ideas (write about powerlessness, loss, passion) or just the first line. I am inspired by the wise words of fellow writers, but I wonder if I just enjoy reading about writers. I do enjoy writing...but I feel unstructured. Ugh. I said it. I like structure! I like structure but I like to be left alone to deal with it. What I loved at Findhorn was that we had assignments and class activities...and I was free to complete them as necessary for my own growth.
In our writing class we had a lot of time to freewrite on subjects and then we shared. Nothing too complicated. But there was structure. We sat and wrote. We had topics and styles and themes. Am I able to provide that structure for myself? Who knows. I can write almost everyday for 15 minutes. Can I write for another 15? Can I choose a writing exercise each day? Or at least, each day that I want to write? If I set it up to write on a topic, that will be helpful. Preprint it on the page, that might work. Maybe I need a better place to write too...I borrow the keyboard to hook it up so I can write more comfortably...maybe I should just invest in a keyboard for the laptop. Hmm.

Anyway, I apologize for my avoidance. I know it's not about you...but sometimes it's hard to face myself in this blog. It's hard to see that the magic I crave is little more than self-discipline and an open mind. I prefer the concept of magic, honestly.

I am impatient with myself...I want to be published and paid and loved and be an amazing writer already. I want my stylish writing studio (which allows for art, but is designed for a writer) and my organic, wholesome food coupled with candid interviews by people who are so fascinated with my lack of manners and social awkwardness that they wonder how I can write with such poise and eloquence (I know, I have to get to that stage first!). Or how could I have survived such traumas in my life and come out almost normal? In any case, I want it all now, of course...and like designers and architects, lots of writers don't get "known" until they are in their 50s...so I guess I'll have to wait. And be patient. And write a LOT more. And publish just as much.

Sigh. I feel better. If I can just do that more often. Write. Be honest. Show up, no matter how ugly it may be. I'll work on it.