What will I do if I can’t create anymore? What will happen when I write “The End” in a novel for the last time? I don’t know. It sounds like death to me. Death to everything familiar, everything I enjoy or have enjoyed doing.
What will I do if I can’t create anymore? What will happen when I write “The End” in a novel for the last time? I don’t know. It sounds like death to me. Death to everything familiar, everything I enjoy or have enjoyed doing.
Is it possible to experience an image of joy in the midst of grief? Of pain? I know it is. Let me tell you how…
With the new year comes an eagerness for changes in our lives. We make resolutions, set goals, and instill fresh mindsets. I’ve finally taken the time to establish an inventory of what’d I’d like to see change in my life during this year.
The morning light slants in an east window near my chair, highlighting a ruby-colored candy dish, making it gleam a bright pink. How different things appear in bright light. It makes me wonder how I’d look under such circumstances.
When I first started to have issues with disability and a body that wouldn’t cooperate with my demands and reflexes, I let it define me, crush me in a way that nothing else ever had. Until I realized that I was more than what I couldn’t do…