In fact, it has been almost a year. Life's been busy, that's not new. But the writing bug went away for a while. It took a sabbatical. While it was gone, I've been reading
(see sidebars) and listening to music and tinkering with ideas and traveling a little bit and in general, living life. And it's been good: wind in your hair, dance in the rain, kind of good.
The bug appears to be back. Regular service will now resume. Let me leave you today with a poem that seems particularly apt.
Covering Two YearsThis nothingness that feeds upon itself:
Pencils that turn to water in the hand,
Parts of a sentence, hanging in the air,
Thoughts breaking in the mind like glass,
Blank sheets of paper that reflect the world
Whitened the world that I was silenced by.
There were two years of that. Slowly,
Whatever splits, dissevers, cuts, cracks, ravels, or divides
To bring me to that diet of corrossion, burned
And flickered to its terminal. - Now in an older hand
I write my name. Now with a voice grown unfamiliar,
I speak to silences of altered rooms,
Shaken by knowledge of recurrence and return.
-- Weldon Kees