A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away I wrote.
I wrote often. I wrote as much as I breathed (probably).
Then I got older. I stopped writing so much (for good and bad reasons). It just seems like everyone and their moms have a blog or photography business or SOMETHING that has to be posted, grab your attention and become… well… very ordinary. Don’t get me wrong, how great is it that people are able to share so much of themselves and have others in on that? Ya’ll are talented. I’m not hating.
I am, however, not up for the challenge of competing and trying to create some sort of dynasty with a catchy title that gets a billion likes and a million shares on Facebook. That’s never been my thing. My thing has (or used to be) just writing to write. Writing because I like it. Writing because it helps me be me.
So let me start off by saying I have no idea what I’m doing.
I’m not here for your likes. I’m not here for your follows. I’m not here for your comments, concerns, debates, arguments, shares, opinions, or views. Honestly, I’m here for me and you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I won’t shove this down your throat. If you want transparency, I pretty much don’t want to share this anywhere or have anyone read it. 🙂 Ain’t life grand?
So that’s it. There’s no catch.
Sometimes I take pictures so I may post those. Sometimes I have really random bursts of thought that I have to write down – you may get that (enter my favorite term: brain blast). Sometimes I need to process, so welcome to the scary place that is my brain. Sometimes I’m inspired, so I need to put the inspiration somewhere.
Welcome to whatever this is. Let’s see what happens.