when the world is mud-luscious


I’ve not written in a while – so long, in fact, that WordPress contacted me to show me all that I’ve been missing. Haven’t felt as inspired to write here as I have to work on le novel, and creative writing headspace is at a premium when other obligations and desires get in the way.

It’s getting Springier out there and as I’ve said before, the changing of the seasons makes me melancholy. Not depressed, nostalgic. Lou and I just took a walk and every person we passed reminded me of someone I once knew. Every shift in the air and fragment of light brought me back a year or 12 or 20. I wonder what it’s about, this particular form of melancholia. Do I miss the past or just recall it? It’s as if the variations in temperature remind me that I haven’t always been mired in winter (or summer or whatever season is drawing to a close) – it reminds me that I’ve lived through this so many times before. My favorite is the beginning of fall.

I wish I could take every thought and idea, every fragment of experience and emotion that I’ve had, fictionalize them, and translate them into saleable prose. 

I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.

That lyric just popped into my head. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind is the reason why. Maybe I first heard the song on a day that looked like today. Today – right now – is a hazy shade of pale blue. Pretty, smoky, soft-edged. 

My friend KJ has started her blog and has asked me for feedback, which I will happily give. What I’ve read thus far is an extension of her wonderful, restless, and brilliant mind. “Write what you know” is a common refrain among writing instructors, and this she does beautifully. Hers is a mind that grows in leaps and bounds and one whose linear thoughts come with footnotes and addenda. Keep going, KJ – you’re off to a great start.

I think I’ll start writing in this thing again. 

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