Writing stopped its ceaseless flow and I don't know why. Something occurred in my interior life that jolted me severely and I lost the imaginal figure who fired my desire to write. I'm shifting, transforming, unable to see or know what's ahead. The shock remains. I am sundered, unsure. Is it that the star came too close?
But perhaps the point is the obscurity, confusion, incomprehension. Inside this burning star where I blindly feel exploding energy without graspable form.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
'serpent of leaves' appears in impromptu dance
Dancing over a rabbit warren in the roots of a green ash that was infected by the emerald borer and was cut down years ago, I wove my way up...
-
I sit before a large painting I am ready to trash to fret about my feelings towards it. Soon I am slapping paint all over the canvas. ___ ...
-
Basquiat at the AGO: An Untitled Portrait When asked about his frequent use of "carbon" (tar, asbestos), Basquiat shot back, ...
-
Pablo Valdivia, Breathing Underwater translated from the Spanish by Ross Woods Guernica Editions, Fall 2014 102 pages Trade Paperback...
i felt that way for awhile. like something between writer's block and loss of everything creative. i recovered. a few weeks. then, the numb-ness went. and words began to flow again. hang in there. hope it all makes sense for you soon and it gets better.
ReplyDelete