Getting over writer’s block is like finally reconnecting a dammed river after years, there is sediment before clear water flows. There might be protest, people who are comfortable with the familiar restriction or afraid of what might be released when the dam comes down. I am terrified. The water is stagnant, low in oxygen, murky. It has been accumulating runoff and litter, losing the vitality of a healthy ecosystem. All of the damned fish are the same, and I think they washed in from some other river.
I think it has been half a year since I sat down and seriously wrote. The past month I’ve been losing my marbles a little bit. I’m homesick, anxious, low on energy a frustrating percent of days. One of my friends got me sewing and making a papier mache banner, and I realized that I had built the dam that was suffocating the river. So, I’m writing again. Hopefully at least once a week, ideally more than that. This isn’t some serious project; it’s not meant to be good writing (at least not at first). Perhaps it’s tinged by some misguided nostalgia for the “better days” of the internet when blogging was big, and the most popular filters gave you dog ears and sparkles instead of a perfectly contoured face. It’s definitely my beginner attempt at letting my thoughts travel beyond the pages of a hidden notebook. And maybe it will be somewhat of a steppingstone towards my dream of writing a whole book.
So…the muddy water is flowing. The fish can reach their spawning grounds, and the river bottom can see the sunlight. Let’s see how long it takes to make this into a good place to spend the day fishing.
Flowersong Writes 