I’m finally back in my typical Fall mode, revving back up after the Summer drift. Most of this post was written a few weeks ago in one of many aborted blogging attempts during the last few busy but blah weeks prior to my recent vacation. I think I’ve got my projects in a good priority order now, and my mood is much improved now that I’ve soaked up a week of balmy golden weather in Virginia and returned to a sunny day in Seattle.
Hopefully this will lead to more active blogging. But no promises. I’ve come to accept that blogging is not my natural medium. I’m more of a ‘blurt it all out and then be quiet for a while’ kind of person than an ideal blogger who can effortlessly stream forth randometa. For now it is necessary to my mental health that I accept this and not stress out when I am compelled to neglect this space for a while. I accept that this limits my cred as a blogger, but I hope you’ll stick around anyway and take what you can get. And I definitely don’t mind a little nudge from time to time (hi Tina!).
[from an unpublished post titled “faux fall’]
Usually Fall gets me going. I love the crisp air and the changing leaves. It’s been my favorite season since childhood, not least because my birthday is in November. Plus back east the Fall was a long-awaited reprieve from months of sticky heat.
But this dreary excuse for a Fall we’re having here in the northwest ain’t cutting it. It makes me sleepy and unmotivated. I can’t seem to get anything done. I’m not talking about work assignments. That’s a whole other thing. Where there’s a deadline, I can find a will and a way. It’s my own stuff. I’m not even sure what to focus on. I’m not feeling inspired as a writer, a crafter, or a reflexologist.
I can’t seem to snap out of curl-up-with-a-book-or-stupid-TV-show mode. This essay about a guy who wrote a book in 3 weeks made me cry. It sounded like such a magical creative experience, the kind of thing that seemed just a finger’s reach away when I was blissing out at the moonlodge two weeks ago but has since reverted to being far more elusive. I know I can’t blame it all on the weather.
I did make this little owl over the weekend.
He’s just a lopsided prototype, but I’m proud of using one of the designer fabric samples Ariel gave me for his belly. I thought he might be nice for one of these babies my friends keep having. But I want him to be more 3-dimensional, so I can put some rice in the bottom and he’ll actually sit up. Plus I’ve got some other ideas for his eyes. But who knows if I’ll get around to finetuning the design. I don’t think I have the stamina. The more I work on things the less worthwhile they seem. Argh. I hate feeling like this. Where did my energy go?
[Forgive the disorienting nature of this little flashback and rejoice with me that my energy definitely seems to be coming back. I plan to spend a lot more time on creative writing over the next few months, scheduling sacred time for it at least once a week. I’ll let you know if that amounts to anything.]