new york is cold and gray this morning.
this writing business is a tricky thing.
ideas come often.
well, relatively often.
nagging, little ideas mostly.
usually an idea comes to me and it sits for awhile.
and then another idea will come. and another.
and once i've collected four or five seemingly disconnected notions they start moving around like in the spin cycle of a dryer.
and after just enough to time to lose a few socks to who-knows-where, i begin to write.
but if i let the ideas collect for too long--if i have too much to say, the dryer stops turning, the socks stop warming, and i am the one who's lost.
i suppose that is the point where i just choose one idea and begin. work it out in words. even if i don't think i have words. even if words fail.
i've been in such a funk. a little over a month and a half now. the great debacle of 2009, my little funk.
and i am in love with the city for this reason alone.
because from the confines of my room--my home, with my desk lamp all aglow, i am thankful for this next day, this new season, for the impending holidays that herald this weather as their calling card.
this writing business is a tricky thing.
ideas come often.
well, relatively often.
nagging, little ideas mostly.
usually an idea comes to me and it sits for awhile.
and then another idea will come. and another.
and once i've collected four or five seemingly disconnected notions they start moving around like in the spin cycle of a dryer.
and after just enough to time to lose a few socks to who-knows-where, i begin to write.
but if i let the ideas collect for too long--if i have too much to say, the dryer stops turning, the socks stop warming, and i am the one who's lost.
i suppose that is the point where i just choose one idea and begin. work it out in words. even if i don't think i have words. even if words fail.
i've been in such a funk. a little over a month and a half now. the great debacle of 2009, my little funk.
ned. oh ned. really, we're back here?
after australia things were so good. it was all in perspective. and i started to feel beautiful. my god, for the first time in four years i felt beautiful. and then ned. and you know what? i didn't want to write about it because i thought, been there, done that. no one wants to know. the story's been told. it's boring. and honestly? i was embarrassed, ashamed. by the humanity of it--by my own fallibility. but this is how it works. you go in circles and move forward only to be sucked back by a current you couldn't see. and then you break free again. and you find new waterways. and you reexamine and rethink. and one of these days, one of those thoughts might just change my world.
some of my friends threw an apple crisping party on tuesday night. apple crisp and ice cream and wine.
i wasn't going to go. the funk prevails.
but the party was so close (a miracle, since i live far from almost everything) and i was cooped up in my room. and i have some very lovely friends that know my habits and knew some coaxing might be in order. so i got on the bus and went. and i didn't put any makeup on, or change my clothes. i didn't feel beautiful. and the funk carried on.
and then i got there. and i felt so unbelievably lucky. for these people that couldn't have given two shits what i was wearing. for these people who have seen me at my worst and still invite me to their apple crisps. for these friends who make me laugh and offer me wine and say, this too shall pass.
and pass it did. or at least lifted a little.