~A Bitter Swallow~

I'm starting to think that this condition I put upon myself to write every day may have been a mistake.  Well, I know it's not a mistake, but it has been proving to be much more frustrating than I had anticipated.  I envisioned myself picking up all sorts of random ideas or topics to write about, but when I go to do the deed, my mind is blank.  I am sitting in one of those old school desks-  the type that have the table that lifts, and is attached to the chair.  It's hard and uncomfortable and my tailbone hurts.  I stare at that stupid black chalkboard in front of me, but nothing is on it.  I can see the powdery white of words long past, erased over and over, but nothing is there now.  I do not even see any chalk on the rim.  Just the dusty old eraser. 

(*Side note:  I tried like hell to find a picture to convey what I just wrote, and I could not for the life of me find something that fit...  Perhaps an idea for a certain photographer I know....  provided we can find an old desk and chalkboard...)

Grrrr...

I still have not bought my dream journal, and I think I'm about to throttle myself.  Dreams are always an easy one to bounce off of.  If nothing else, I can use them to write.. just write my dream in as much detail as I can remember.  They are fascinating sometimes, and it distresses me to no end that I cannot remember them.   Sweet, beautiful butterflies in my broken net.   Some mending needs to be done.  I keep saying I need to get over my fear of my sewing machine.

I've been thinking a lot about birds lately.  How they fly, so free.  It's cliche, but I cannot help it.  It tugs at my heart, and I've had to turn away lest cry inside (and maybe outside).  Then there is the raven that was tearing up the chicken bone left wire-bound to the sign post at the marina....  that was fascinating and disturbing at the same time.  Sometimes I identify with that one, too...   not necessarily with the food aspect, but with the fierceness of desire, and sense of entitlement, I guess.

Water captures my attention just as the birds do.  So, when I sit down at the marina dock, I am pretty much lost in thought- my focus crashing with the waves or flying with the seagulls...   They fill me with a deep sense of longing... as if there is something I have lost right there within my grasp..  Sometimes it's with that sense of freedom; a break from responsibilities, duties, expectations.  

Where oh where has this blog gone?

I wanted to watch a movie about dragons, but had to write instead.  Dang nabbit. 

I'm done.