My writing muse has escaped her cage and run for the misty autumn hills. Now the words will not come. I can feel them all stopped up in my chest.
Block is the right word. Perhaps I need my grandmother. Her little crocheted pouch pinned to my tomboy grubby white singlet. Frilled edges picked in boredom to tattered thread. I was a troublesome one.
Those pouches of my childhood filled with the fumes of Vicks. Take in a deep breath, feel the vapour start to break the congestion apart. Smoke the words out.
As it is the words taunt me from the tips of tongues, backs of minds. All coy, refusing to tell me what they are.
At least the photography muse is in song. You can't have everything all the time. Though I've had both for so long. It feels like they've broken up. Trial separation, possibility of divorce. I am the child of a broken home.
The photography muse clearly wants me to live with her. Outdoing the other parent with colour and light. Making quite a show. Look, she says, at the way that Autumn tree that you cannot see reflects in all that concrete and glass. Look at how pretty things can be when you choose to live with me.
Still, still .... I do so miss my words. It is always the aloof parent we chase after.
Steepshot IPFS IOS Android Web
All words and pictures are my own. These words are original Steemit content. The image may have been previously published in one of more of the following locations:
I just saw the post about the beagle attack and other heart wrenching news items. Sending lots of positive thoughts in your direction, and I'm sure that when the words come (which they will, when you are ready), they will be worth the wait. hugs
Thank you Traci. I am all recovered now with a scar to show for my run in with the Beagle. I hope that the words come soon. I'm quite over having writer's block.
Yikes, but good, @onethousandpics! I hear that - I've had more bouts of writer's block than I care to count, but the words always find a way of coming back.
I can only dream about writing as beautiful like you. So even when you’re having a writers block, you do it from out of your inner feelings. And that is a gift. Good luck in showing both of your talents on Steemit.
That is so kind. Thank you. I am really flatterer. I am about to read your Normandy article. I loved my visit to that area.
Thanks. I'm also in a kind of writers block :-) I just have to enjoy my writing, otherwise I can't do it.
Write about the writer's block. This is the best writing advice I ever got.
That's true Phil.
Thanks Sid
You already read my praising comment on Instagram, so I’m not going to repeat it here. Don’t want to appear logorrhoeic… 😉
After the dog incident, just wanted to make sure you are fine. It's ok to be quiet! It's actually healing to be quiet. It's a process, right? take it easy...
and that's such an amazing pic. it says it all! Where is this? Even the disappointing human presence in paradise looks good...barbed wires, concrete pillars...what are we trying to stop?
The cows getting out. It is a cow farm and they often got out and wandered on the road. Dangerous for all. It is out St Alban's way
I have a different picture of St Albans in my mind. It's a suburb of Melbourne. You can only get cows in your Pho there.
ha ha well ours is definitely prettier. It has cows like Betsy.
☺️