I find myself randomly inspired. Not that I am inspired to do nothing, but sometimes the fire flickers for a while, my eye fixated at some sparkly thing my hand heart or mouth wants to touch. Sitting on Monday mornings is always a lovely way to reflect on things…I’ve decided these books need to get completed soon. But I am slightly afraid of my writing hand, afraid I might have lost some way to lure the reader along. My friend tried to tell me I had to stop messing with the English language and trans-regurgitating metaphors and word fondling and keep it real. Only then would I be able to mess words up and reinvent sentence structure and make people actually have to translate the way my brain actually wants to spit out ideas.

Rain on any day is not a happy thing for me, but this rain, Spring and Summer rain, means growth green and color to the earth. I am in need of some serious planting done and soon…but that can’t happen for another week or two.
I really want to spend my time doing frivolous things, like falling in love and sitting in the sun, but unfortunately I have little time to waste and even less opportunity to explore what I want to be true. So today I might have to berate myself if I don’t complete what it is I need to do the most–painting the adobe and reorganizing the mess. Every facet of my existence is going to be up for examination by people who know me intimately and not so well…but everyone around is getting equal access.
Nerve wracking stuff I tell you.