I need to write. I have so much inside of me right now that it’s threatening to explode. Apropos since one of the prompts I got in my email today was “finding a bigger container,” which included this marvelous picture.
Is my life feeling uprooted? Do I feel like I’m in a container too small? Maybe. I spend a weekend feeling out of sorts due to a new infatuation with someone totally inappropriate but those feelings are still there. I found the answer to a years and years old question of what bird I was hearing at night. I have written an essay on it, and that needs to be typed up, edited, read by someone other than me, and hopefully it can be used to send off to a magazine. I’m actually quite proud of the piece, even though it’s only in ‘shambles’ right now. It’s actually not that bad. I was relaying the story off to my writing group this last Saturday and one of the ladies told me that maybe I need to ask the question of why has this bird become a part of my life. Why has it just now revealed itself to me? kind of like a spirit animal or guide.
Now personally I don’t believe in spirit guides and all due to my Christian faith, but at the same time, I did start thinking about it. While the answer I came to might not be anything other than what I came up with in my own head, at the same time, I felt a bit of comfort in the result.
It has taken me years to discover this bird and it has driven me nuts year in and year out; but I have kept plugging away, trying to figure it out, not giving up hope that someday I might, just might find out what it is. The only thing I can connect it to is waiting for the right man to come along and just keep plugging away and waiting for the right person. And also keep plugging away at my writing and someday I might be published. Keep focused, maybe not to the point of insanity, but seriously taking moments to write furiously. I’m not going to date furiously; I do have my standards…… Though one can sometimes dream. (I have not been blessed with the cream of the crop around here….as I was talking to one of the ladies at the library in regards to books, I seem to have more crap of the crop around here.)
I am dabbling in poetry, at random points. I have four poems that have started all on the same subject….. See above in unhealthy desires….. and then again on this and that. I have a post I want to write about letting words flow, but that will be when my brain is more focused. Even now as I write, I have gotten distracted by election returns, a news story, looking out the window, my dog, my family. I can’t stay focused.
I’m venting here. I’ll blame Dona on this. It’s her prompt that has me writing. I’m dreaming of Paris. I’m dreaming of a man who love’s Paris but is taken….. so I can only indulge myself in anything French… My family indulged me with necklaces of the Eiffel Tower and a pair of earrings and I’m so Frenched/Eiffel Towered out but I love it. “Paris is always a good idea” says Audrey Hepburn. It is so true. Said taken man spoke something in French to me all because he noticed my Eiffel Tower necklace. It’s. So. Not. Fair.
What is this post but nothing more than frustration creeping out of me. I need to run (it’s been almost a week since my last run) and I need to escape the ties that bind. Whatever those ties are. I think I need to write more and think less. Now if only I could turn off my brain and let the free thought explode out.
I should stop. The chickens are calling. ‘Wheat, wheat,” they say. I need to clean the coop and water and feed the feathered creatures. Side note, wet chickens smell horrible. I say that because it rained today and I had to scoop up my pal of a rooster, Mr. Blue, and put him away. He was wet. P-U!
Restless and contained.