Dipping a toe in
So much is going on right now in my life. I feel like I am caught in the middle of a whirlwind - or maybe, the first strong breezes of a whirlwind. I’ve thought about coming back and writing in here more than once. I’ve also thought about scrapping this whole thing and closing up my journal. I’m not sure what I want to do right now. I can see so much change on the horizon for me, and it is scary, but also very exciting. I debate between writing it all down and recording it - and the fear of jinxing it by looking at it too hard. So today I’m sticking my toe in, just the big toe, and seeing what it feels like.
The play that I am working on continues to go well. It seems to go mostly in fits and spurts. I’ll write nonstop for a few hours, and then days go by before I pick up my pencil again. The beauty of it though it that I know where I am going with it, I know how it will all turn out. The hardest problem is finding the time, space and energy to write. I’ve been jealous of any creative time lately, which is yet another reason I’ve spent less time on here. I find that Lj is great for keeping my creative muscles exercised, but bad for draining away energy, and more importantly time, when I need those muscles for something else.
(And yet, I miss you guys. I miss you a lot. I think about you and wonder what’s going on in your lives. I desperately want to catch up with you and see what I’ve missed. I want to take time to go back and read past entries and see the things I’ve missed.)
I have another creative project on the horizon as well. It might be another play, it might be a book. Last Wednesday night I was out with a girlfriend when my phone rang telling me that my aunt was taking my mother into the hospital. That call, coming at 11:00 pm, my sister’s voice on the line telling me that mom was going into the emergency room took me back to all the calls I got about my father. How many calls did I get late at night, telling me dad was being brought to the hospital yet again? And that final midnight call when I was told he wasn’t going to come back out at all. My aunt was driving my mom from South Haven - about an hour away, so I knew there was no point to rush to leave the restaurant I was in. It turned out that mom didn’t get admitted to a room until 3:00 am. During that time, as we sat there my cell phone conspicuously between us, my girlfriend and I talked about hospitals and death. Dealing with the poor health of a loved one, the medical issues, the difficult choices, the funerals. Our conversations sparked an idea between us - something that could be turned into art. We both realized it, and yesterday we agreed to get together soon and talk about it more.
Mom, by the way, is fine. The blood clots we were sure were in her lungs turned out to be 3 severe bleeding ulcers, and while serious and requiring a blood transfusion, ulcers were something that was fairly easy to deal with. I’m glad. Seeing her in that hospital did something to me. I haven’t stepped foot in that place since my dad died, and yet I quickly found I had forgotten nothing. I could almost find my way around blindfolded. It’s a knowledge I rather wish I didn’t have.
The play that I am working on continues to go well. It seems to go mostly in fits and spurts. I’ll write nonstop for a few hours, and then days go by before I pick up my pencil again. The beauty of it though it that I know where I am going with it, I know how it will all turn out. The hardest problem is finding the time, space and energy to write. I’ve been jealous of any creative time lately, which is yet another reason I’ve spent less time on here. I find that Lj is great for keeping my creative muscles exercised, but bad for draining away energy, and more importantly time, when I need those muscles for something else.
(And yet, I miss you guys. I miss you a lot. I think about you and wonder what’s going on in your lives. I desperately want to catch up with you and see what I’ve missed. I want to take time to go back and read past entries and see the things I’ve missed.)
I have another creative project on the horizon as well. It might be another play, it might be a book. Last Wednesday night I was out with a girlfriend when my phone rang telling me that my aunt was taking my mother into the hospital. That call, coming at 11:00 pm, my sister’s voice on the line telling me that mom was going into the emergency room took me back to all the calls I got about my father. How many calls did I get late at night, telling me dad was being brought to the hospital yet again? And that final midnight call when I was told he wasn’t going to come back out at all. My aunt was driving my mom from South Haven - about an hour away, so I knew there was no point to rush to leave the restaurant I was in. It turned out that mom didn’t get admitted to a room until 3:00 am. During that time, as we sat there my cell phone conspicuously between us, my girlfriend and I talked about hospitals and death. Dealing with the poor health of a loved one, the medical issues, the difficult choices, the funerals. Our conversations sparked an idea between us - something that could be turned into art. We both realized it, and yesterday we agreed to get together soon and talk about it more.
Mom, by the way, is fine. The blood clots we were sure were in her lungs turned out to be 3 severe bleeding ulcers, and while serious and requiring a blood transfusion, ulcers were something that was fairly easy to deal with. I’m glad. Seeing her in that hospital did something to me. I haven’t stepped foot in that place since my dad died, and yet I quickly found I had forgotten nothing. I could almost find my way around blindfolded. It’s a knowledge I rather wish I didn’t have.