Yep, that's all that was in the entire post. I have no idea where I found that picture, but it is a doozer. And obviously I'd just had some sort of wake up call...I just don't remember what it was.
Here, let me share more.
This one was from February and is titled "Vegetable Fail"
That one I do remember. Nasty greens...ick, ick, ick. While I stopped doing a new vegetable a week, I didn't give up vegetables completely. I've had more of them in the last year than I'd had in the previous four...overall I think my 2012 New Year's resolution was a success.
This one was titled "Grrrr" and fell somewhere in March
Once again, not sure what was the inspiration behind it, but I was obviously in a good mood that day.
This one is from June...I remember what it's about. It's title: "Mill Weight"
You've become the mill weight. So they cut you loose. And you spend your time wondering how you went from being something good to something discarded.
You think after 36 years heartache wouldn't affect a person...yet it's always a new, and rarely less painful experience.
Then there are posts I haven't quite worked through yet. I'm still milling them around in my head, teasing through the thoughts, organizing the confusion. I hope to finish and post those. Maybe not on this blog, but maybe on my other, nameless, secret blog (because that's where my deepest thoughts go). But maybe some of them will make it here.
There is one from July titled "Truth". It contains a list of things I've come, or am coming, to accept about myself. Like I bite my lip when I'm nervous...or insecure...and I'm nervous and insecure a lot.
There is another one from August titled "Drifting Into Darkness". It was inspired by a drive home from Duluth and my oversensitivity to the changing light as the day settled from afternoon to evening to night. Life drifts into darkness a lot, almost imperceptibly. I'm definitely going to finish that one.
Then there is one from September. It's titled "Truth, Trust, Trauma & Trees". It was born from a long walk taken on a beautiful fall day. In it I talk about the big (T)'s and little (t)'s of truth and how truths don't always match up. I talk about the interlude of trauma that transpires between the gap, the breaking of trust, and how that all ties back to the symbolic nature of trees. I don't know if I'll finish that one. It may be too much. To close. To raw.
But raw is exactly what a writer should be. A good writer anyway. Writers are suppose to be the brave ones. The ones who say what many of us think. The ones who put the words down and speak for the rest of us.
I made a commitment to myself, years ago, that I would be a good writer. In some ways I am, but in many I am not.
It's interesting for me to reflect inwardly on the things I share, and the things I do not. The ways I share, and the ways I do not. Believe it or not, there is plenty I keep to myself. But there is even more that boils inside of me and begs to be put on the page. They may or may not make it to print. I may or may not be able to write them.
For writing makes them real.
And some things are too real.
Even for me. Especially for me.
So what does the writer do when the writer can't bear the burden of writing?
Because that is where I've found myself.