I’ve been so full of words that they won’t come out slow enough
to write them down.
Seems I can’t take enough pictures or make enough art or wrap enough language
around the full of my heart.
Feels like trying to stuff wind into a jar.
But the wind would have it’s way
and so I’ve been splashing and diving and speaking in color
and with that there swells the waves that I’ve been riding,
letting my heart paint it out bold,
the words I can’t yet make.
I don’t want to dam up the flow
even when the words slip out gimpy and dull.
I can be too hard on them, my words,
and maybe I’ve been laying on them something heavy,
expecting them to carry things no words should have to heft.
I’ll be instead kind,
giving the things I write down
the freedom to be clear and certain or messy and mischievous,
taking their own sweet time about spitting it out,
what I send them to say.
During this season of whimsy and wonder,
I’m giving my writing a wide playground.
Mostly the words get painted in with all the layers
and I’m nodding permission with a smile:)
I’ll get back to making the talk when the wind changes.
Adulting is hard and I’m doing alright, I suppose.
I may not always have these days to wander into the forest,
to head down a new road just because the light flickers warm and I don’t know the way.
If I don’t show up here regular for a while longer,
don’t worry that there’s something wrong.
It’s just that the wind had a whisper about it
that called me to climb a little higher
and I’m far from the keys that I press to visit you.
But never far in spirit.
First of June I’ll be taking my wares to market and getting back to the business of being at home when it counts.
Thanks for your love and for letting me be the only me I know to be.
Your acceptance means much.
“I think the most beautiful thing
– Alec Soth
(Really I can’t seem to stay out of the forests these days.
They seem to keep calling, “come up here”)
And so I do.