Sometimes I’d lost all yearning
There wasn’t a po’ burning
Sometimes I was just quiet-busy
with the four monkeys
or just three of them
Sometimes I was happy
to sit not writing
Sometimes I found myself
for one hair’s-breadth moment
in wordless solitude delighting
And yet, still, I found I would
ache to write about it.
Dear friends, as writers we must all have similar feelings at times, about this constantly recurring urge to create. I wonder if Frida Kahlo felt the same about painting?
I’ve been reading more about her life recently; she was one of my late mom’s favourite artists. Frida worked with little recognition during her lifetime and yet her art is celebrated the world over now. Many of us can take comfort from the idea that what is not understood or valued at the time it is created may still be worthwhile (whether or not it becomes famous). And what is popular now might not be what the world really needs. So whether you are a blogger just beginning (or even, if like me, you just need constant reminding), let’s stay true to our own voices. Let’s try to educate (even if it’s as to one other human being’s experience/feelings — our own), entertain and/or positively inspire. Combining all three are what makes a shared post great. (Paraphrased from something I heard years ago on a podcast somewhere. :)) 🎶
By the way, thank you so much for all your amazing support. You’re like an online creative family and I’m grateful. “It takes all types to make a world,” as the old saying goes. So let’s write our (compassionately expressed) truths, if we’re brave enough, and write on. We can also all choose whether we read and/or respond. 🔆✍️