At What Point, Peace?

Chaos is creativity’s alpha and omega. Ten pages of trash for one line of treasure. Some artists do better, and most never even find the one. Maybe they quit on page 9, maybe they don’t even try again.

Sometimes I wish I could just sit down and have the words just flow out of me. Some writers can do that. One fired synapse from thought to keystroke.

Me? It took me two fucking hours to write the above. That’s not typical, but it occurs when I’m not in my element. Probably why I’ve been having trouble blogging lately. Everything about my situation is the direct result of me purposefully taking myself OUT of my element.

Before I left Kansas City, I joked with my friends, “I can’t talk right now, I’m busy forgetting where I came from.” But that’s not too far off. I wasn’t where or who I wanted to be, so I decided to change. And despite the influx of experience, writing lately is a total grind, because I’m less certain of my words.

Now I realize: That knife’s edge is exactly where I want to be.

So a grind it is.