greetings: it's finally spring

I wanted to enjoy small things in life, because it is worth it. I am happy, relieved, and excited to reintroduce my blog. I think that the right voice and style for this will arrive in the doing of it. 

I'm crying as I type this; it's monumental to get to this resolve. I don't particularly like writing in the absolute now at all--it always sounds completely flat from rawness and too colloquial. I miss the paragraphs and essays that I didn't appreciate when I was young enough to still let the structured arrive in sound in my mind, and then fall into the concept of "do the writing", and transform into the action of typing that which was so obviously ready to be written--already written, inside my sound brain. This has already become a complaint about writing, rather than the depiction of scenes I had felt motivated to want to share with less of a wild mind detour. I lost track in that last sentence, and I want to give up. This is not what writing was to me. 

I wanted to be a hostess and a tour guide here, even almost a fiction narrator. I wanted there to be a sense of place and era, and facets that characterize me--I want to depict me, not inner monologue me, or what I was doing in the earlier paragraph--fighting phrase by phrase to make that which can be writing. I don't necessarily think that is the only genre this blank page in an iPhone app should host. I want more screenplayism.


I was about to drive home in time to get in some restorative yoga before bed. But I've been writing in the small strip mall in my neighborhood, and--so much photography zen goes here--it felt like I could do today's daily digital art #selfie here, and commence with the hostessing I told you I aspired to above.



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