If this blog seems like it is in an odd phase, it sort of is, or it might be. Or this is just in my head because I’m not experiencing many of these posts, the way that anyone else might. So it may only be visible to myself, but I don’t know. In 2022, I fell into a pattern of writing drafts and never publishing them. And for the past several months, I have been resurrecting those. It’s strange and uncomfortable to dig up these past pieces, and I’m not sure why. Also, there were too many drafts of the same posts. I had a writer’s block of sorts, yet I was still writing all sorts of things. Things that went in totally different stylistic directions, at times. I didn’t feel good about the writing, for reasons that didn’t feel like good reasons. Or maybe I just didn’t feel good about publishing them. For some of these pieces I didn’t know where, or if, they fit in. Or I felt that my sense of timing was off. Or I was just in a weird phase personally. Maybe a combination of all of that. In short, I did not feel great about what I was doing – but I was doing it anyway. I was simply not sharing it.
I am used to managing posts in mostly real-time, as it were – as events are happening and the writing is fresh. Right now it’s a real mix of past and present. And then tying it all together. I feel my production is confused. I will sort it out, but it may not quite add up for a while. I am doing this because I want to practice allowing things to be what they are. For now. I have had to tell myself before, to consciously be in a state of allowing. Not only with craft, just with life. I enjoy breaking out of my patterns. I enjoy patterns and cohesion; I also enjoy blowing it all up creatively. A sucker for a challenge. I do not always want to visit the same places I have been, and for better or worse it shows. Craft can be an adventure. An experiment. The rest of my life is fairly routine. Craft is the escape, the dream, freedom.
I could’ve just let those old pieces go. But I never intended to hold them back. So I will just keep adding in this random assortment; this chocolate box of different stuff. The habit of hiding is one I’ve been breaking for years.
Mystery is a lost art. I wanted it bring back, but I can sometimes do it too well.