I can hardly believe my life sometimes.
Category: Flow Arts
“Chachi,” I said with a half-smile curling at the corner of my lips, “you can’t tell me that.”
“Oh?” she responded with a tone of surprise.
“Yeah, if you dare me to do it, I’ll have to do it,” I stated with [the] assurance of a fait accompli.
“Oh, well, I dare you, then.”
“Fu–.”
I am exhausted. Exhausted from driving, from burning, from finishing up my manuscript.
And yet I’ve never felt so alive.
I feel like I have just been sucked out of a vacuum. In truth, I think the muse had just gone. It needed a small break before it could engage for a full weekend at Tygh Valley for SOAK.
I returned from Tygh Valley on Monday but was so freaking tired that I had no wherewithal to post or mention or do something about it. That is changing now, and here are the first details of what I hope to be a consistent theme over the next month.
It’s happening. I’m going to SOAK. The last preparations are being made. Last deliveries are arriving at my door as I type, and I am raring to perform a trial run on how I am going to fit all the camping supplies into my car.
I spent most Monday doing a whole bunch of things. Writing was not one of them. I had nothing. I was empty.
This is an experiment in finding new ways to write about staff spinning. It’s also an experiment in finding new ways to enter the flow state and breaking down old walls.
