*Some personal thoughts*
I’ve not written since before Christmas, I had decided to give myself a little time out to reflect on recent events and focus on coming to terms with my current loss. I tried to write, but my words had become fuddled in my mind, they wouldn’t translate to paper/screen and the pictures in my mind vanished with frustration. The longer I tried to hold a scene, to describe events the swifter events slipped by… My muse had left me… *strike dramatic pose*
Truth was a lot simpler, I just had too much of ‘normality’ that needed my attention and the inner realm was not in fact beyond my grasp, but pushed back to the far recess of my mind so I could deal with what laid before me. My stories starting to play out in my dreams instead, this helped resolve my insomnia, I was dreaming and I was sleeping. These factors also aided my ability to deal with shit.
I have dreams which follow on from one another, like my own personal soap opera in my mind, I replay last nights events in my thoughts as I lay my head down to sleep and somehow the little characters in my dreams can pick up the threads of a tale and run with it.
So if I can think it, see it in my mind and even dream events, why can I not find the words I need to describe my inner world to my small circle of readers? I have new characters to introduce you too, new plots and plans, I decided that I would introduce mythological creatures when a Phoenix entered the Kings realm and stole the stone (spoiler?) my imagination was working overtime, but my pen laid dormant.
Maybe the answer was with the appearance of the Phoenix? For these creatures arise from the ashes, they are life after death, resurrection, reincarnation… Personally they have a family connection lingering there deeply…
I needed time and I needed to accept the fact that I also had to take a break from writing, because forcing writing just turns into nonsense. So I rested, my story rested, my dreams lead my plot and in life I could focus on the harsh reality I was going through. Sometimes the answer is not to escape, but to give reality the attention it required…
I am ready to start to write again – yet I’m still not ready to cry… But I am back!
Love Anne, 09.01.17
Tatterhood 