refill

It has taken me quite a while to refill my inkwell.

After several silent years, several thousand fettered feelings from my last poetic piece, I found myself once again drawn to the empty pages of paper that used to be the ears to which I poured my persuasions. (mouthful?)

What exactly triggered this hunger I am not sure. Perhaps it was the months of squeezing every last bit of creativity out of my brain to develop my freelance projects that finally unblocked me. Or perhaps it was the attainment of relative stability, that feeling of standing on firm ground, for my beginning family, that finally removed the stress enough to once again let me indulge my emotions. Either way, this is definitely a welcome reunion with my old self, and hopefully this will, in turn, fuel my creativity for my freelance design projects. That way, I can only win.

I am once again beginning to write essays more than two paragraphs long, an extraordinary achievement by the last several years' standards of my writing. Last night I penned a very detailed account of my current state of health, concluding on the note that tomorrow I may very well be admitted to the hospital for a semi-serious respiratory ailment. Oh well, if that ever happens, I guess I'll just have to bring my pen and paper to the hospital so I can write away all that spare time sucking food through my veins.