I Am Not a Writer, But I Play One on the Blog

This afternoon I felt a rare bloggers spark that generated from the depths of the small place inside my brain that's called "creative", and I made a bee-line to the computer.

I am not a writer, but I do enjoy writing. I have a large box of journals that I have kept since I was probably about 10 years old. What i have noticed about writing is that it tends to come in waves of creativity that I cannot predict. One minute I might be folding socks and suddenly something will inspire me and, if i can get to pen or paper (or in this case keyboard), than all is happy and I can ride a wave that is fulfilling and fun.

Sometimes, if I know something is due, like the Christmas card letter or a piece I am working on for other projects like speaking to groups or whatever, then I might think about them and have spurts of creativity that allow for the piecing together of thoughts over time. But this is a rare thing.

Usually, when I have a stroke of writers luck I am running on the treadmill, or standing at the kitchen sink with my hands full of soapy water, or sitting at the intersection on the north side of town that has the longest red light in the United States (and I am not exaggerating!) And usually the "good-writing" thoughts don't come in the first 4 minutes before the light turns green but about 30 seconds before....long enough only to grab the pencil that fell in between the seats to the floor, along with three petrified french fries and that tube of lipstick I lost last year. But then you have to have paper.

I tried having pads of paper everywhere so I could jot down ideas or thoughts but that can be scary in many, many ways...have you ever tried to write and run?

The hardest part is that often the creative spark fizzles out almost as quickly as it starts. Sometimes you can work through distractions. Meaning that people could be talking to you, or waiting for you, or jumping on your toes and you would still manage to get your thoughts out. But more often you can be filled with inspiration and blink the wrong way and it gets jostled around somewhere in the brain, never to be found again.

But I digress.

Today I was ready to blog. I wasn't exactly sure what I would write about but I was going to look at the handful of posts that I had started and saved as drafts and attempt to finish one of those. I was ready to take care of those silly photos that refused to be seen in the last entry.I was going to get things on the old blog cleaned up a bit.

Then I was going to write about my last full week of work before this chapter of life closes. I was ready to tell you about my last Chapel Day at the preschool, and how I had held it together through all my favorite songs, until one the teachers came up and hugged me and I dissolved into tears. Right there on the stage. In front of all those sweet children. I don't much like crying in front of poeple and I am almost always surprised when it happens.

I was ready to write.

But Blogger was shut down for maintenance and my creative balloon deflated.