Dear Reader:
It's been a couple more Trump campaign links to Russia, a whole bunch of March Hoops, Two contacts with my mentor, a shitload of writing and maybe two promising drafts and one week since my last confession.
For some reason the word cohesiveness came to me this week. I confess it was like it came out of nowhere and slapped me in the back of the head. So obviously I had it's full attention at this point.
I thought about what it's like to be corrosive. I pictured a metal platform being eaten away by corrosive elements much the same way an old car will develop rust spots often called car cancer. Then I thought why a platform and I realized I was standing on it. Something clicked in my head and I decided this is what was holding me up... the platform. And to my dismay it was crumbling under me.
Sometimes I question my personal compass. Am I pointed the right direction? Now my fear was, am I standing where I shouldn't be? Am I not on a good platform or foundation for where I hope to be going?
I've written a lot this past week. I've not liked most of what I've written, and that is okay because that is going to happen. But I do get tired of it when this stretches on for some weeks (which periodically happens) and it has a way of making me second guess things. I confess that as the Writer 2 Writer module moves to # 3 where we focus on craft, I think maybe I am supposed to be having these self doubts and asking myself questions. Well, I confess it will give me a reason to talk craft with Ken.
On an uplifting note, one day this week I got a book and went out onto the deck and took in the springlike weather with a nice breeze. I read a while and then just listened to the birds and watched the trees in the breeze with their buds coming out. On another, in early evening looking out westward I observed the sky as a mirage of the painted desert. I confess life can amaze me even when I'm on the cusp of falling through my platform.
My best to each till next time...
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