📝 Blog Post: The Act of Writing

As you might have noticed, I’ve been doing some remodelling around this home. Added new painting, and things are still a bit out of place here and there, but I take joy in the process. Though slow, it releases from me a force of creativity I often miss. As if slowly, as the season darkens, my desire to bring about a new sort of light rises and pursues my dreams, and won’t let go, tugging, tugging, until I give in. Often, this means letting go of other impulses and pet projects. Often, this mean abandoning some parts of myself, yet picking up another. It is strange, the act of writing, surging like waves in the shore. It comes and goes but never leaves me alone. I am the sea, the words are the ocean, and we often meet, yet sometimes I do need to reach for it, as I do now. As if I slowly barricaded behind a wall preventing the flow, a trench, where I dare not go. My story was abandoned in guilt for the last week, and yet, it sits there, quietly waiting. I did return to it; I did set…