man-with-exploding-lightbulb-head-on-retro-typewriter-117149791Those of you who follow this blog may have noticed a distinct lack of input from me lately. Some family issues have required my complete focus and time of late and have not allowed me to have neither the clarity of thought to write anything cogent, nor the energy to plink away at a keyboard. Indeed, any free time has been spent sleeping or praying.

It struck me this morning that, for me, having an unburdened mind and spirit is absolutely essential for my creative process. I not only have no time to write at the moment, even though I am working hard to finish the second installment of my WATCHERS series, and continue work on my novella series, SOLITARY, but I have no desire to write. It is an uncomfortable sensation.

The usual flashes of insight, clever plot ideas, and snippets of dialogue that flit across the whiteboard of my mind most days are gone. Their absence is palpable and very disconcerting. It’s how I imagine a person might feel after brain surgery when certain memories have been lost, but, of course, they don’t know they’re lost except by the inexplicable yet discernible void. A faint outline of something in the dust on the floor, with only one’s imagination to fill the empty space.

Now that the issues my family has been struggling with have resolved into a new rhythm, I am hoping that my muse will return from her sojourn abroad. I miss her and wish to embrace her and spend time with her crafting worlds and shaping time. My hope is that this particular collision of life and art yields something substantial and propitious.

And still I pray…

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