just do it, already.

trying to write right now is so difficult. i think a true artist writes through the busy times, the difficult times, the pain, the sorrow. most classic writers had full time jobs and wrote when they returned home. editing and transcribing took place by candlelight after the chores were finished and the kids were in bed. george macdonald, a favorite of mine, wrote through the loss of a child.

right now is not difficult or painful. there is joy. there is excitement. but there is so much to do. planning your own wedding is a job in itself, one i am not made for. i'm trying to remember to breathe. forgetting to go exercise because there are errands to run. i do have an incredible fiance who has done so much for our wedding. but at the end of the day, there are multiple tasks that i haven't accomplished, there is an apartment to pack, two households to combine, a reception to plan out detail by detail. elopement sounds wonderful though my parents will kill me. i am thrilled to be marrying this man. i am overjoyed i get a wedding.

i haven't learned yet the balance of handling this huge thing and to stop and create, to do what i made to do. to remember to look in his face and smile, to be playful. to be quiet, to be still in the middle of this thing called an American wedding. to not take on worrying about the fact that someone is going to have to clean the church after the wedding and take down the decorations, that someone is going to have to take the leftovers and pack them up. to take time to look in HIS face and remember what all of this is about- our desire to honor our Heavenly King.

2010 challenge- i'm beginning this year in an incredibly busy season of my life, and really soon, our life. i've got to start living and doing right now. to live the writing life, to create art, to swim, to study, to learn, to make quiet time, to be alone with God, while i'm working out the largest event of our lives. the challenge- in the words of the simplistic but true nike slogan (with my own twist) "just do it, already."

"are you bona fide?"

love that line from o brother where art thou. and today, i am. i just got paid to write. done it for free (though as part of my job) and done it for me. and now, well, now....

i'm bona fide.

camp, it's on its way.

writing life

everyday has been hard to write through. today is gonna be really bad. last night i wrote through intense pain. i had to take the day off yesterday to cope with the pain. stayed up half the night with it. got up at 1am to take a bath because of it. i rolled out of bed this morning 10 minutes before work because of it.

because i'm really bad with boundaries and saying no, and because of my people pleasing tendency, my desire to make everyone happy both out of selfishness (to make myself look good) and a desire to serve, i had a relapse.

i came to work to find a huge mistake i take the blame for. pride was wounded. all will be well. but i made a mistake.

i allowed by nosey nature to get the best of me this morning. and i wounded my pride. i made a mistake.

confusion is king today. i have no clue today. i don't know anything today. boycott beijing? elections in zimbabwe? darfur? nafta? tibet? housing crisis? failing economy? go to school? move to new york, mexico, costa rica, africa, amsterdam, england, vancouver? stay? am i good enough for publishing? am i ever going to be good enough? will i ever write for money? encouragement? hope? love? what's wrong with me?

so, i plod and write. i got to have lunch with my writer's group and the luci shaw (http://www.lucishaw.com/) yesterday. i'll write about that next week after this week of poetry is over. revision is key in writing i learned. and some reason i feel extra insecure about my writing. but i'll keep writing.

really, i just want to kiss and be kissed. hold and be held. love and be loved. be without pain. have energy. be strong again. and write.

challenges and valleys

it's a dreary rainy day today here in austin and the humidity is evidently as high as my curly hair. a grief induced headache finally disappeared this morning after a nice long visit to the chiropractor. visions of annihilating cancer cells dance through my brain as another one loved is diagnosed with the disease from hell (i imagine grabbing them and smashing them on a wall like rotten tomatoes, or whacking them with a giant mallet, or shooting them out of the sky with an ak 47, or decapitating them with a great heavy sword, or....) sorrow and depression grabbed me this weekend despite the lovely setting i was in (a house over looking the lake); and i couldn't write.

when i was in the throws of my strange 2 month illness, brie challenged me to keep writing from that place. it felt as if nothing good could come from my wearied fingers but i kept writing.

last week i decided to challenge myself to a poem a day for a week. i will start today and end sunday. even though this is not the best place to write from, i'll give it a try. life will always hand you sandpaper when you wanted linoleum. there will always be grey days when you wanted shiny ones. a poem a day. for a week. we shall see what will come. quantity produces quality? at least there will be quantity.