Summer

This summer has been like the Summer of Inspiration, no lie.
Everywhere I go, everything I hear or see and everyone I meet is inspiring me, making me think, compelling me to write.

This really is a new phase in my life though.
It's the time I've been waiting for, for a very long time.
A time when all there is, is me and time.
Nothing to work for, just results to wait for.
I can do anything I want.
I'm free. To a certain extent.
Obstructions to my freedom are my job and my mother. Ha.
Two things which I love. Honestly I do.
My field of work is a loving field. When I enter the door I'm greeted with various different voices calling out my name, big hugs, hot-off-the-easel masterpieces and evidence in cuts and bruises of the day's goings on.
Children are delightful.
My mother is a loving mother. Sometimes I think she's doing a terrible job as a mother and I want to throw pillows at her and tell her she's rubbish and highly irritating, but I don't because most of the time she is brilliant. Actually, all of the time she is. Just sometimes, I beg, hands clasped together and on my knees, to differ.
And she's one of those mothers that daily proves the "Mothers know best" theory.

Anyway, I digress. But I won't apologise for my digression. I think that's the beauty and slyly the purpose of blogs. They allow someone like me to literally document the thoughts that go on in my head, as they happen. And what is a thought train without digression.
If one stayed on the same line of thought, one wouldn't get very far.

So yeah, inspiration.

(I've just put my head on my hand, which is fisted and on the table. My knuckle is meeting with the centre of my forehead, and I'm still feeling the bruise which has been there for like two months, no joke. I'm slightly concerned...)

Inspiration is just coming from all directions, yes.
It's only a little bit overwhelming.
But I'm taking it all in my stride, attempting to channel it in intelligent, creative, ground-breaking ways.

I'll be updating the blog with the fruits of this inspiration.
Currently collecting the water to nourish the seeds that have been sown.
I'm very excited.
And I'm hoping that I don't just get carried away soaking up all these new sources of stimulation
but I'm actually do something with it. Otherwise it's a waste. And I'll feel like a waste.

I don't think blogging or writing one's feelings/emotions is a sign of weakness. It takes strength to put pen to paper, or fingers to keys. To take pent up, complex emotions and turn them into something tangible or relateable is strong. To write something, confirms its reality, your acceptance of it, but also your attempt to do something about it. Obviously depends on what it is. But yeah.