April was tough. I have nothing to complain about, and yet my mind has been restless, writing has been like banging my head against a brick wall, and my confidence in my guitar playing has plummeted. I was more or less productive, but I haven't felt fulfilled and it has been hard to be still and content. I have such great personal ambition, and yet my time and skill is so limited that I get stuck in this cycle of pride and self-criticism that makes it difficult to find joy in creativity. This month I will try to remember that I am not doing any of this to achieve something great. I am doing it because I love it. The process is its own reward.

This is the eternal renewal. – Virginia Woolf

This phrase from the end of The Waves has been hanging in my mind lately. How everyday we are renewed when we sleep and wake, how relationships fade and then renew as we separate and come back together, how creative energy waxes and wanes, how we celebrate Easter to remember that the tomb is empty.

“Yes, this is the eternal renewal.” And yet even on the mountain of renewal, we remember that we will go down again, that joy is sometimes a plodding thing that we do not know we have until we have been carrying it for some time. Writing, like life, is no paved way. It requires endurance and eternally renewed hope.

February actually felt like winter, both physically and spiritually. I felt like I was hunkering down and just surviving. Nothing extreme happened, but I just barely maintained a writing habit. This month is looking pretty busy as well, but I'm going to try and keep chipping away.

Well, what a month. I feel like I am just now getting over the hangover from 2023. I turned 30. All my creative endeavors were a struggle, but I struggled on. Not looking forward to this year because of the election... But I have decided to show my work by my actions rather than my words, as far as that is possible for a writer...

Another year has gone. Didn't get much done in December as the latter half of the month was all for family. Did a lot of traveling. Tiring but worth it to share the joy of our kids. I have been reflecting on how, when we meet with family, we are often just as challenged as we are refreshed; and I am sure some families are more often challenged by each other. Living apart (in our case in different states), means that we develop different routines that are not always good for us. What we eat, when we get up, the things we meditate on and distract ourselves with. Visiting family can help us reflect on our strengths and weaknesses, if we take enough time to stop focusing on others' deficiencies...

Wow, November went fast. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Thanksgiving cut into writing time and overall productivity this month — but seeing family was worth it.

Book 2/3 and Audiobook

I have decided to start doing semi-regular updates for what I am working on and what I am reading and consuming. At most I will publish one once a month.

Disclaimer: I mean no disrespect to other bloggers and writers on any of the platforms that this is read. I do however, mean to disrespect the current ad-driven, marketing-centric model that dominates the blogging and internet writing landscape, which seems to reward quantity over quality.

In Walden, Henry David Thoreau tells a story about an Indigenous man who weaves a basket and tries to sell it to a well-known lawyer in town. The lawyer refuses, saying he does not want any, astonishing the Indigenous man. Thoreau writes: “Having seen his industrious white neighbors so well off – that the lawyer had only to weave arguments, and, by some magic, wealth and standing followed – he had said to himself: I will go into business; I will weave baskets. Thinking that when he had made the baskets he would have done his part, and then it would be the white man's to buy them. He had not discovered that it was necessary for him to make it worth the other's while to buy them, or at least make him think that this was so...“