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Never Let Your Ink Well Run Dry

I wrote the above title in a completely different context on the Hampton Art blog today.  But it’s a sentiment about which I’ve been thinking quite a bit as of late.  Writers, have you ever found yourselves with nothing to say?  I have written a few plays which have received professional productions. And oddly, the last surge in writing productivity for me happened at the tail end of perhaps the most painful period of my life.  My marriage had fallen apart, I was feeling the financial burn of having to start over on my own, I was working double shifts of my NOT dream job, and at the very end of that phase of life, I was so exhausted spiritually and physically that I didn’t want to open my mouth to speak.  At all.  Yet the written word came in abundance.  Go figure.

Thankfully, the last few years for me have gone in an entirely new direction.  Gratitude, peace, joy, love, space.  Space.  These words would categorize my life as of late, and man, I’m often brought to tears by this fact.  But aside from the joy I’ve felt writing this blog (the posts are oh so manageable), I have felt uninspired to write longer works, despite all the mental space.  You’d think with everything in place, the writing would flow… Nope. Truth be told, that blank page has from time to time led me to feel a certain pointlessness about life.  The feeling is momentary and not of the desperate kind.  Pointlessness may be an exaggeration.  Equanimity might be more appropriate.  A sense of how small we are, how small I am.  What I’m trying to figure out right now is if that’s a good thing haha!

If you’ve been following me here, lightly peppered amidst the crafty eye candy I share with you, you’ve caught bits of my ruminations about life’s brevity.  When I contemplate how little time I’ve got here, wow –  a good chunk of my daily gripes really start not to matter all that much.  Oooh but how the writerly hat starts to collect dust.  What I’m starting to realize is that while blissful living is a beautiful thing, I cannot live there indefinitely.  If I did, it would mean that I had turned my eyes away from the injustices which abound throughout the world.  It would mean that I had lost my humanity.  So in order to write, I’m thinking I’m going to have to walk a very fine line between bliss and awareness, savor this moment but also meander in the past, steward the future.  And for me, at least, I’m learning that if my ink well starts to run dry, I had better open my eyes a bit wider.

As I contemplate the blank page, I wonder, what kind of mark do most of us make in the time that we’ve got?  Do we impact humanity in a positive way?  Do we exploit our potential as individuals not simply to bolster our own egos but to promote positive change?  Theater possesses incredible potential to change the way folks think, to make us EMPATHIC.  That is what cements its powerful hold on my soul.

Family dynamics, cultural assimilation, the rift between old and young.  After a somewhat trying stay with family, these are topics that have motivated me once again to write.  Thank the Lord.  For those of you who follow me here, I’ll share with you that my mom is healing beautifully.  While she kept apologizing about the burden, taking care of her was actually fun.  I was happy to do it.  A colorful variety of extraneous events and situations created some interesting conflicts that led me to include “trying” in the above description.  But the Mom part, that was all good.

You can be sure I’ll scrap about all of it, the good and the bad.   Mom has been updating her progress in the journal that I made for her.  And guess what, this project just showed up on the Sizzix blog this last Saturday!  That was an awesome surprise.

Mini-book in use!

Love this pic – those are hands that have worked.  While in Florida, I spent many hours lying next to my mom with my head on her pillow.  We’d giggle over little things.  To make her laugh, I’d do inane things like knock her pen out of her hand while she tried to finish word searches.  She’s addicted to word searches.  When I’d locate the words before she could, she’d try to hide the book from me.  What’s great about my “Rama,” (that’s what I call her) is that she’s just as entertained by her accent as I am.  We were raving about peaches in Florida right now and she said, “Tree Lipened,” haha!  I regularly massaged her leg, and when I’d do her feet, her eyes would close and she’d start to snooze.  Cracked me up.  I noticed though that caring for another human being left me with little energy to do much else and this was important for me to know as I endeavor to create a family of my own.

Whelp folks, thanks for stopping by and hangin’ with me through the words words words.  It’s been awhile since I put out a video, so that will be my next task.  Hope it will be ready for y’all real soon!

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3 thoughts on “Never Let Your Ink Well Run Dry

  1. Hi Vivian. Just want you to know that I so enjoy reading your blog; the way you string words together and all your crafty projects. I don’t have anything eloquent or inspiring to say other than you have real artistic talent and I’m so happy that you are able to share it!

    Glad to hear your mom is doing well.

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