There is something missing within me. I can't see it. I can't point it out for those who wish to fill that void, I can feel it. I feel it when I stare endlessly at a black page. I feel it when my phone vibrates with notifications: 'We haven't heard from you in a while. Love your friends, WordPress, Instagram, and the rest!' Last summer, my creativity and imagination, hopes and dreams erupted from a dormant, dead core. I had so many plans. So many goals to achieve and the surprising drive to do it all.
Where is it now?
As my mental lists of more places to explore, things to learn, ideas to create into existence grows longer, I find myself staring at that empty spot yet again.
I blame anxiety.
For my fear of exposing myself in the most intimate, vulnerable state: my true self.
I blame laziness.
All the experts say "if you want to get better at something, just do it." There are many things I wish I want to do: I want to paint digitally, develop my blog and brand, write and draw graphic novels. I even have all the resources at my fingertips, yet I do not go the extra mile to reach and grab hold of my wants.
I blame myself.
Last year I raved about being unapologetically me. I've seen myself reach down into the pits of despair, my rock bottom. I climbed to the nearest ledge and claimed freedom, but now I look up and see the cliff high over head. My knees buckle with fear and I avert my eyes to my ledge. Make it my home to be comfortable. But now the ledge trembles with the extra weight. I must climb or face the bottom again.
After a very long hiatus, I think it is safe to say that I am back. This piece is what I've been feeling the past couple of months in regards to why I haven't produced any new creative content.
With TinyBlueBackpack, I hope to revamp the website with a new design/logo, the whole works. And create a schedule to stick to in order to promote consistency.
Thank you for sticking by and I will see you soon!