I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance?
I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them.
Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog.
Your title intrigued me, probably because I write so few actual checks these days. I do everything online ... as much as possible, that is. My creative period to write is first thing in the morning when I rise. Lately, that's been about 6am. Since I'm not retired and could sleep later, it's a mite annoying to continually waken early.
But that's when it is. And I can never seem to write anything from my phone. I need keys, often mis-struck since I'm no typist. I'm sorry you feel your writing is like "paying dues." I hope you find your way back to the joy of writing. You can do it.
Beholden It may be age, as well. But I think the ease of computing these days takes away from the struggle, the suffering of the poet, don't you think? After all, I blogged this from my phone.
THANKFUL SONALI is happy! I don't think all dreams are meaningful, but some may be. At least, it may be meaningful to know whats on your subconsious mind.
There are those who 'analyze' dreams and say that dreaming about 'this' means 'something', and maybe that's true to a certain extent, maybe not. I often dream about going back to school and not studying for an exam or not giving in homework. Now I was a good student to the point of being sickeningly goody-goody, so that hasn't actually happened. A friend said it could mean that I'm unsure of the new things I'm learning now in life and that I want someone to teach me.
Beautiful piece! I love what you say in your very last sentence. ...emotional defense, a way to preserve sanity rather than give in to unspeakable grief.
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