My outline for my "writing project" is materializing. This is a comfort. I have so many ideas about what I want to do, so many ideas that for a while the idea of actually sitting down and making some of those ideas real was a little overwhelming. I love how I am able to think myself into such a frenzy that it completely obliterates the action piece.
I have been primarily writing in an actual physical journal, hand to pen and pen to paper. It's the best way for me to write poetry. I've also been reading my old journals. I am so glad I kept them. There's some good stuff, both for comic relief and also because it's allowed me to step back in time and remember who I was. It's amazing how much of me was set in place at, say, age 9. I really had my writing voice at an early age.
This week I have off from work. I was supposed to be kickin it in NYC, but I came down with something nasty that kept me in the bed and off the plane. Because I wanted to be back home for New Years, I ended up just postponing my trip. I think it all worked out for the best, although I am terribly sad not to get to see my NY girls. I think it worked out because right now I probably just need to have an extended period of time to devote to writing, slowing my pace, and reflecting.