
Getting off track
Lessons from a much-delayed project
Musings on life, books, philosophy, creativity (writing, art)
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Dormant Last read · last published · next check
Read 3 days ago and current, but nothing has been published for 5 years.

Lessons from a much-delayed project

I’ve been grappling lately with the question, "Why write at all?" These little essays, dashed off in just about an hour each, sometimes feel like mere goldfish, scooped easily from a small bowl.

Great relationships are built on copious amounts of shared, belly-busting, teary-making laughter.

Writing, drawing, and all kinds of creative work sometimes feel like mining for gemstones.

A tiny boy born two months premature has become a rather less tiny man, sitting at a desk, typing, pausing for thought, resuming.

Children live almost entirely in their bodies, feeling and grasping and experiencing the world directly: eating when hungry, playing when bored, sleeping when tired, crying when in pain, laughing when happy.

(The Thinker in The Gates of Hell at the Musée Rodin.)

Writing can be therapeutic, but it can also be harmful: via negative self-talk that reinforces limiting beliefs, wallowing and becoming even more stuck in the mire rather than getting out of it, and even constructing a false reality that in fact is much worse than the real world.

A burned-out day in the life

(Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Children’s Games, 1560.)