stumped.
i feel i should write something. something useful, translucent, or at the very least, a little entertaining. a tidbit. a morsel. possibly a semi-precious gem. i just want to be able to say anything, really, to fill the gap in this space. to appease the extended pause that pokes incessantly on my back with the ticker countdown of how long it’s been since the last. so i am uneasy in the conjuring. it feels a little forced. and i don’t like forced.
the keys rattle under my fingertips with emptiness, with backspaces, with expectation, and with long sighs.
some days i am just stumped. and those days seem to string themselves in a row like a conspiracy.
i don’t have the energy to tell you an old story. besides, that would feel like a cheap shot. and to attempt to reveal a new one before it is ready would be clumsy and contrived at best.
my commitment here is to tell the truth of what is real in the moment. to sit in the freedom that is the present.
so this is all i’ve got this morning: damp, fogged, fluttering, stretched, sun-warming, ripe citrus, and a blank page.
- good morning. http://t.co/C2jqjKSR
10 hours ago - loved meeting David Eagleman tonight. Fascinating and dynamic thinker and speaker. #Incognito
3 days ago - good morning. http://t.co/mLDr1W1B
11 days ago - good morning! http://t.co/8epidcDB
13 days ago
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25 February, 2010
I admire this post, Lisa. No one ever writes about the blankness and pressure-to-transform in the act of writing itself. Hardly anyone just lets themselves observe and live in that uncomfortable space as you have here. You have what Keats calls Negative Capability, and it is lovely.
25 February, 2010
I love you for writing this. And my goodness but you are a wonderfully talented photographer. The picture is so lovely.
25 February, 2010
Why have I felt like this for months? Sometimes, I just don’t want to post on my blog because I don’t want it to sound forced and superficial…artificial. I am sitting in a strange space right now and not quite sure how to be in it except to simply be in it. Fully, totally and slightly not trying to figure it or anything out.
Nothing wrong with you being stumped at all. It is what makes you as real as you are.
25 February, 2010
Oh, how often i have felt this and how eloquently and honestly you write about it. Just allowing ourselves to gently be where we are–that is a very honorable and lovely thing.
Thank you for simply being your beautiful, real self.
25 February, 2010
The perfect post. Honest, true and unapologetic. That’ll do for me xx
25 February, 2010
Blank pages can also be rather inviting…wide open spaces to spill whatever you want on them.
25 February, 2010
25 February, 2010
the best anyone could hope for. here’s mine: just read your post, still have goosebumps a little, hearing a sweet song on the radio… now an itch, there… it’s all good.
26 February, 2010
beautifully said. I feel like this more days than not…
27 February, 2010
This is the post we have all written in our heads at one time or another. You have this special way of capturing collective fears through the looking glass of your own experience and making them seem very beautiful indeed. I could read you write about how you cannot write for a very long while. And oh, that photo. Heart-stoppingly gorgeous.
28 February, 2010
And that is how and where we love you most…exactly where you are!!!! Beautiful photo xx
28 February, 2010
beautiful blank pages wait for something wonderful to arrive. (i think we are simply too pushy with time!)
3 March, 2010
I’m new here–I popped over from Soeurs du Jour. You have a lovely place. And I totally feel what you wrote here. Writing is such a commitment to share something good. You really put into words how I feel some days, but you turned it into art.