Ok. Who am I kidding? The evidence lies before us in these very pages... I am not a regular contributor to the blogosphere.
Let's make a pact between us, you and me, that as comfortable friends we can pick up where we left off each time we meet as if in the middle of a long-running conversation.
And with that, let us resume, midstream:
My quiet little corner of the world is no longer so quiet. There are large diggers and earth movers and other big and noisy machines across the road, turning a bucolic empty field into a subdivision. When I got back from holiday a few days ago, I noticed a sign a little further down the road that another empty lot is being turned into more homes.
Part of me longs for peace and isolation. That's a futile dream, isn't it? Where can you go these days that hasn't been disrupted or is under development? Progress! Or so they call it. Where oh where is my lighthouse? I'd be happy to sit at a window overlooking the ocean, and feel the sturdy stones of the structure brace against the storm blowing in.
The Lighthouse is as much a state of mind as it is a longed-for place, so while I'd like to run from the world to seek out my solitude, I'm going to work on writing every day, no matter what else is going on around me. I've realized that I've neglected the basics (being practice, discipline, and study) hoping that desire and some ability will make it all happen.
Therefore, I hereby resolve that I am going to begin with small steps:
- words on paper, daily
- find some way, either virtually or in real life, to learn and grow as a writer.
Manageable. Bite-sized, even.
Let it begin!