Tomorrow I am departing to go on a well earned rest. Not from writing, but from all the other tasks and duties in the diatribe of life. So, it may be quiet here for a while, but I am hoping that upon my return I will begin again with renewed vigour and be able to find my soul within writing again.
What I am hoping is that a change of scenery will unblock my imagination and allow me the opportunity to describe and delve into the new environment around me. At the very least I would like to capture the essence of my holiday with the words I have, so that when I return to read them in the future I recall exactly what it was to be there, experiencing all of those things. Isn’t that what a writer should do: not just create, but also recreate, so that others can share in their moment?
So, I will travel off into the world and see what I might find. Perhaps even if I don’t find anything at all I will be able to give my writing muscles a work out by creating that which I desire to see. If time really is what I feel I am lacking in order to commit to writing, then this next week should cure me of such. I will have as much time as I could ever ask for to dedicate to watching, marking and recording the activities in the world about me. I have nought else to distract me but the possibilities and potentialities of all of the people and places I am unfamiliar with. Surely if I am bored with writing here in my humdrum, expectant life, this new location can only offer a rich variety of material if only I dare to look for it and stretch myself out of the box I have closed myself in.
One sentence a day. Where might that lead? Surely to wonderous, mysterious places that my mind has never ventured to before…?