Well… it has almost been a month since I last posted. I’ve been very busy working on this book of poetry. Not really working…more along the lines of organizing these old poems to place in a book. We shall see what happens when I release this thing. The poetry is coming along nicely and if you’re in the mood to revisit some of those feelings you probably experienced as a youngster or may be currently feeling, you can pre-order the art of my youth on Amazon .
“Now, keep in mind that I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my shit” – Erykah Badu
I’m going to do my best to showcase once upon a time I was in AP English but I can’t promise that I’ll edit the non-promotional post. There is more a free flowing vibe around here. Kick off your shoes, have a seat. Let me tell you some stories…
As I embark on my year of putting paper to pen? Fingers to keyboard? Whatever. I’m creating things in 2020. I have written on a daily basis for 29 days. This is a departure from what I’ve done for the last few years of my life as priorities changed. I feel like I’ve spent the bulk of the last 7 years aggressively focusing on my career and I forgot to be…Me. A little bit of background and a short history, I did some hotel/restaurant management type hustle then I became a full fledged number crunching woman of the world…aka an Accountant. When I say world, I mean entertainment, a small world with a far reaching impact that consistently reshapes society. Nothing major.
I’ve waited in the wings for the moment to share all of the characters that live in my head but I never made the moves necessary to showcase my talent(?). For example, I’ve had this website for over a decade. I have manuscripts that I haven’t touched in ages. I have pilots written yet not a single manager/agent has a query email from moi. Slacking would be an understatement. O_O In the past friends would arrange group outings and I would find myself transforming into a source of frustration for them because I’d never introduce myself as a writer. Unbeknownst to them, I didn’t feel like one. Imposter? Too late in life to do this? Whatever societal pressure I was feeling, it most definitely caused me to vanish into a shell of my formerly creative self. I had fallen out of love with something that once felt like oxygen. Life happened, and as we all know, when changes occur, we tend to derail our own passions in the pursuit of stability. Marriage, Kids, work, etc. It all takes precedence over the thing that once made you feel alive.
Here I am…
Stories to tell
In the very near future I’ll begin posting stories and excerpts from upcoming projects. Might even review a film or two. Be patient, be kind, and stick around and read a story.