brain cells. i'm trying to regrow brain cells.
and, in order to do it, i'm trying to write.
(suddenly i hear Yoda's voice in my head: "there is no try. there is only do." no idea how he got in there...)
ok, Yoda. i'm writing.
i'm writing timed exercises.
i'm writing postcards.
i'm writing blog posts over at the other spot.
i'm trying to write a speech. i'd really like for said speech to not suck. actually, i'd like it to be a whole lot better than that. but it's not ready; i keep starting it, and it's like kudzu, the thoughts and examples and stories and maxims too thick and jumbled and tangential to cut through.
which just means that it's not ready to be written yet. that i don't have quite enough info to share that's not personal anecdote. (and really, i don't need to tell the story about blowing a lesson because the night before i stayed up too late at a mezz party learning of the evil beauty of grain punch.)
two more timed exercises. and then a forced march through some research in the hopes of finding a through line for this lil' talk.
(on the plus side? it is a gorgeous day to sit on the porch and read and write. mama is happy as a clam!)
Or your death will be a happy day.
11 hours ago