Every time too much time passes between posts, I wonder if I even remember how to log in.
And then when I get to this part of the post…I feel like I’m done. I just needed to get that off my chest. See, world! It was a while, but I still knew it. It happened with (some of) my times tables too. I still know what 9×9=
I’m just not going to tell you. Right now. But I will in a minute.
And, now that I have fearlessly gotten the first witty remark off my agenda, the dog starts to whine. She has to pee. And it’s been a while…so…naturally I wonder if I remember how to do this…
In a eyebrow-furrowing cross between guilt and love, I have just spent the last 30 seconds of my life outside. While I was out there, I decided to celebrate my little accomplishments. So I took a deep breath, and thought of all the things I still remember how to do. Remarkable.
I have been writing. Still remember how to do hand writing. On paper.
I have been painting, too. Just not daily. But still painting. Just not telling the world about it. Not necessarily because I want to, but mostly because it’s easier. Not to.
With new glorious involvements in my life, such as the ART life, my creative being has become so rich and full, that I have forgotten to remember that I can type words on my blog. So here is one to appease the giants.
Motivation? I met with a couple other writers tonight and thoroughly enjoyed the clashing of swords playing with each other, and I am feeling optimistic and hopeful. And was reminded that I had a blog. That I like.
(It equals 81.)