creativity

i miss writing.

sometimes i compose paragraphs in my mind of the way the october sun hits the auburn leaves, casting a shimmering shadow on the chilled blades of grass.

my mind wanders as i behold the glowing window panes of my neighbors, whom i haven't yet met, against the stars. their open drapes reveal a family, a home cozy with love. the candles and flowers by the windowsill draw me in, and i want to meet these people until i remember my grocery list. 

other times i orchestrate daydreams of living in the warm and bustling city and wearing heels to a job i am passionate about. of loving fearlessly and deeply a husband. of being brave enough to make that commitment.

words come easiest when you are melancholy. as your soul sighs words tumble faster than your synapses; your fragile fingers type furiously to encapsulate the emotions before you sink into sadness once more. you let the words overtake you in that moment because as the words flow out of you, it creates a space where oxygen can fill the void rather than pain. your words stand independently on a blank page and the freedom it exudes is exhilarating and merely wets your appetite.

some things still break my heart but i am no longer a sad girl. i am strong. my writing made me strong.

yet i am timid when it comes to sadness in writing. once such a part of my life, i never want to befriend sadness through my words again. although i suppose that is inevitable. 

i am craving a change, something more in my life.  forced creativity daily at work has stinted my passion for creating. i miss writing the way i use to. therefore, i have determined to enroll in a local pottery class! following that, painting. and if i can find a reasonably priced course, cooking. want to join me?