I have a little writer’s block – no flow, no rhythm. But I’ve still found some creative outlet, taking photos, pointing and shooting, as January tripped on, grey and cold. Looking back, reflecting, these photos bring words. Short, sweet, irrelevant. But words all the same and a light at the end of the tunnel. The block is unblocking.
How nice is nature and stone and contrast? How cheering it can be. Don’t just look at the rose. See the wall too – layered and smooth and detailed and unique. And then the rose. Bright on a gloomy day
Diaries and journals, my hobbies, backed with colour and flair, making up for the content, wanting and dull.
Me in the mirror. Me in the Art. Who is looking back and is it the reflection I want to see?
If life came with directions, would we still get lost?
No words right now. No flow. But pictures and inspiration and memories and thoughts.