I think most people think that Artists spend their lives in a perpetual flow state creating magic every time they put pen to page. However, what it actually looks like (for a lot of us) is a series of fits and starts and disparate parts that seemingly don’t go together. Now and then, there’s a flash in the pan or a grand catalyst that brings it all into one crystallized endeavor. And once that happens, so much work still remains:  to revise, to edit, cut back, or refrain. 

If that’s the case, then the only way is to keep showing up, day after day. Imperfectly. Inconveniently. Inconceivably.  . . .

Through this new series of reflective writing, I want to embrace my innate desire to explore. I want to follow the callings and questionings of my heart. I want to allow the fleeting, flickering embers of thoughts, feelings, and inspiration to spring to life from the fire that incites this one creative life. I want to invite connection. And in this process, I want to feel into one unanswerable question that always stirs me: