blank pages

continuation of ...

woke up thinking blank page, bit obvious, maybe I could write something about writing and blank pages ... and then I could scan it ... and put it on the blog ... scan worked ... but I couldn't work out how to put a pdf on here, just kept repeating something about a rejecting server ... so back to the phone ... and half an hour spent forcing the bluetooth thing to work .. next task, write it out so its readable ...

why write

Writing is failing me somehow. Not completely, because part of that energy is inviolate but everytime I sat down to write in the last months  all that resulted was cliched  and self-conscious posturing.

I'm not sure anymore why I want/need to write.

Word and thought slip from my grasp. Or is that they are held too tight? Words and phrases flatten beneath my touch and conscious mind, running along the same old tired lies. There are deep ruts in my mind from repititious thought sliding (slithering) without effort or care toward the same horizons.

First impressions - yes we see what see from deep held ... what? I have nothing to say - or is that I need to say my old things differently - or is it, really, that I have nothing else to say.

Sometimes all I see is the enormity of what I don't know.

So how can I say anything when I know nothing. To write is to say something, and should only ever be that. No wonder I can't.

I am stale and weary.

What is important to me is you kids and getting over this writing thing.

(the image that should be here, but I'm not sure about copyright and google images, is a blank page)
so, from my phone, after half an hour trying to remember how to do it ...

Not writing

I stopped writing in this blog. I stopped writing period. And then one morning before work I sat in my car parked in UC carpark and wrote something about not writing in an old exercise book. Which I then lost. I've found it again, along with the login details for this blog, which I also had lost. I look at the last blog entry and it is, according to my understanding of blog rules, waaaaaay too long. So this is catchup to get back on track. I have the exercise book. It is now winter and I am freezing in this room and my dressing gown in the middle of the day, so I don't want to write anymore here - but I think perhaps just to catchup, keep the login in a more findable place, and edit the exercise book entry is as much a blogging thing to do as just entering it with no comment. That is, after all, what a written journal allows us to do and this is supposed to more or less parallel that.

I'd stopped writing in my journal too. That's what finishing a course does, because when I look at the dates it makes sense. But I am going to my graduation in September because dammit I want the glitz and my children can come too, and because somewhere over the last few months I changed my mind about the usefulness of doing courses. We should do one, if we want to be a writer. I think it's an important part of the journey. How we do it is up to us, not completing it is as much an option, as completing it. Either way we gain. Doing a course puts our writing in current context, with external comment and opportunity to expose. Even if completing it does make it hard to get back on track again.