I felt that the creative area of my mind was rumpled and cluttered with the many things we call life... stifled by the boxes, the memories, the items new and old that filled the space as I searched for that 'something' that would free my creative energies. Portions of my everyday world seemed clean and crisp, yet like an unmade bed, memories framed there resting, while sorting out the boxes full of treasures of days past....
As I stated, I wasn't sure exactly what I was looking for, I wasn't sure if this path would lead me to a destination that I would be happy with.... I did know this would be a journey I was familiar with portions of, travelled years ago when my mind was less cluttered, less confined by the stresses and responsibilities of my life, my world as it exists today. I did know that I needed to find something to aid me in freeing my inner self of the constant barrage that was happening.
I approached this new endeavor, this new trail cautiously, and with some reluctance. In years past, my 'writings' whether they be poetry or stories, have only been sparsely shared with even those people closest to me. Back when I was young, I found a desire for creating tales, sketched out by the placing of words on the pad, adjusting to fit the picture in my mind. Though the people around me were encouraging about my ability to create, they were very discouraging about it even being a possibility of filling any portion of my life other than as a hobby. The 'starving artist' point of view was instilled in me, so strongly, as the only path that could be envisioned because of the many years of hard work this world entailed before one could see any recognition.
Thus, most of the work I have done over the years, the creations, have blown away in the winds of time, much like loose pages stacked on a table as the cool breeze lifts. The pages rising in the air finding the breeze and wafting off into the vast nothingness of time unrecorded. The few pieces that I do still have in a collection were mostly written to or for specific people, thereby having more sentimental value than a created picture of doodling. Or, the few pieces that have been written since I have found an appreciation of holding on to, and then going back later to dabble with. Those few pieces also came later as life in its overwhelming time-filled glory which allowed for only rare efforts.
The small collection has only been shared with a select few people, until more recent years in which several have been 'published' in a variety of venues... anthologies, newsletters, plaques on friends walls... Probably due to the influences when I was young, all also 'publicly' shared in the hopes of being done so as 'anonymous'.... I have always, in so many areas of my life, chosen to have my efforts stand for the effort, and its importance, rather than as something I needed to be acknowledged for. Needless to say, this venture in blogland, this journey that I have chosen to participate in, well, posed a variety of conflicts. I wanted to relight the embers that burn deep within my being, deep within my mind, allowing the flames of creation to burn again, creating a light, a warmth within my world. I was hoping that this venue would give me a place to do that. But I honestly had many doubts as to whether this venue could provide that for me. I wasn't sure if I would be writing the post-experience tale of my everyday life, poetry, short stories... I wasn't sure if I would be writing just for myself and an anonymous world of technology, or if I would eventually share any of this with those people in my day to day world.
What I have found along this short journey... was encouragement. What I found was people, other writers, fellow bloggers, interested in taking a moment of their day, to stop and visit with me by reading, commenting, following the posts that fill these pages. What I found were people inquisitive of the next verse, the next installment in a tale. What I found was the embers becoming flames of my passion. What I found were free-flowing thoughts, phrases, sparks blending together into tales. What I found was the vast space of creative nothingness was filling with thoughts, tales, prose just as the dry riverbed of the canyon would fill with the flow of water after the autumn rains that moisten and replenish the arid land around it. What I found was the emergence of that passion deep within my soul that yearns for a venue to share my words with the world, with my friends, and now with my fellow bloggers who read, comment, and sometimes follow. What I found was an endless flow of thoughts yearning to be penned, sometimes even coming in the most stressful of moments when before I could only focus on the stress of the immediate moment.
Over the years of my life, I have endured many losses, many trials, many times when I needed guidance, support, someone to believe in me. I have been fortunate enough to know some really special people who have a way of touching those around them in a very profound manner. These few people I have considered 'mentors' guiding my world, my being by example of who they are. Here in blogland, I also found that these anonymous people who cross my path - also can be mentors, guiding, challenging my passion with their skills, with their way with words, with their support, and by simply taking the time to stop by and acknowledging that I am here, believing that my writing is sometimes worth coming back to for a second look.
Simply stated, to you my readers, my commenters, my followers, especially my first follower (you know who you are)... My heartfelt thanks to all of you for taking the time to stop, for taking the time and effort to get to know a little of this passion, for getting to know a little of me. I truly appreciate your support and encouragement in making this journey a positive one for me. And to you my friends from my everyday life who have responded and followed me here, thank you for getting to know this other side of me that sat dormant for such a long time.
Thank you all for taking time to visit here.