Creation

I've had a lot of thoughts, a lot of ideas, and a lot of words flowing through my mind these past few days. I spent a good hour or so writing in my journal last night. It's been a while since the words flowed like that, for no audience, for no purpose other than to flow. I consider myself a writer by nature- I certainly had no say in the fact that it's the only way words formulate properly for me- but, for the last, well, year I suppose, the words have been much harder to force. I can't put my finger on a particular time when they got stuck or what it was that made them that way, but I know that I used to be able to write six or seven blog or journal entries in a day, and still go to bed with ideas bouncing around in my head like ping-pong balls.
Music, I think, is some of what's helped me find that release again. Some of it has also been a lot of prayer and a lot more reading than I've done in a while. Books, I've missed you so!!! I've been devouring them lately, every chance I get- not to say I've had a lot of free time, as I can only dream of that kind of day lately. Every free moment I do have, though, my nose is buried in whatever book I happen to have nearby, just like when I was a child. I remember Mrs. Miller, my third grade teacher, trying to explain to me and my parents that I should not be reading during math class. She couldn't entirely be angry at me for it, as I truly loved books and always have, but I also wasn't paying attention to the class she was teaching. It's rather amusing, in retrospect.
More than just reading, though, I am really enjoying the books I am choosing to read. Nora Roberts can kiss my butt. She is an amazing writer, but she is more story teller. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but those who speak those humble, but often very weighted truths are more what I've been interested in as of late. I've been reading a lot of religious material, and have recently stumbled across a book by Maya Angelou, and think I may have fallen in love with her words! She is a deeply truthful writer- she is one of few who is so entangled in the story she is telling that she seems to forget to push her words.... I don't know if I can describe it well, really. Most writers have this element of display to their works. They use words they know their audience can grasp, words their audience will associate with what they're trying to make them feel. With Ms. Angelou, though, it's just simple, and very real. There's nothing but her and the page. I admire her for that. I am very intrigued by what trait she must have to accomplish such a thing.
Ms. Angelou aside, I've found a lot of very basic things about myself that I seem to have forgotten, lately. My creativity, or whatever it is that passes for it in my eyes, has returned, for the time, and I am enjoying it. I am enjoying finding myself taking interest in things like writing and fashion and art and photography again. I am enjoying stumbling across artists and writers and images and people the way I used to.
Some part of me is frightened that this will fade away again.
The more optimistic side of me, however, says that returning to yourself is one of the later stages of healing.
"Suppose she is right. She's very intelligent and she often said she didn't fear anyone enough to lie. Suppose I really am going to become somebody. Imagine.' At that moment, when I could still taste the red rice, I decided the time had come when I should cut down on dangerous habits like smoking, drinking and cursing. Imagine, I might really become somebody. Someday." -Maya Angelou
What a frightening thought, becoming somebody.