Sometimes you just stare.  It might not be anything interesting to the outsider, but to you the subject is a playground for your eyes.

For me, it’s often a fire.

The flames jump, change color, grow smaller or reach higher.  Sparks may even fly off.

My brain swirls while my eyes are occupied with the show.  Thoughts waft in and out.  Problems are contemplated–sometimes even solved.

Fire has a meditative quality.  The bubbles in a drink may hold the same for you.

Why is a blank page so intimidating?  Whether it’s here or at work, the blank screen sends my heart racing.  Sometimes I will write words–words of no significant meaning on the page just to fill it up a bit and take the pressure off.  An outline, notes, old documents to use as a starting point, anything will do.

With photography, I begin a shoot with test shots.  I aim at the ground, adjust my white balance, focus on a few inanimate objects to check my exposure and focus.

It takes a while for me to begin to see.  Whether it’s to find the words to shape what I want to communicate or to find the light to create the image I want to capture, I have to mess up things a little bit before I get started.  In complete opposition to my approach to housekeeping, I find it easier to organize and clean up my thoughts/ideas once I shake them all up and splash them around a bit.  Actually, upon writing that that’s how I clean too.  I have to get things all out in my vision so I can organize them and find their homes.

Assuming not everyone approaches their creative process this way, but it works for me.  As I’m sloshing around poking at things from different directions, all of the sudden I find what I was looking for.

BEWARE:  Blogger navel-gazing ahead!

Okay, so I’m here putting words on (virtual) paper, writing novels in my head and staring at photos for inspiration.

Lately I’ve been living in my head.  I’ve missed exits–to my own home!  Reliving things so you can exorcise them is a little tough on the gas tank sometimes.

I forgot about writing and how it makes the trip to work so much faster.  Have I lost the sense of humor I gained when I knew that no matter what embarrassing situation I got myself into it would make good fodder for a post in the end?

I miss blogging, but it’s changed so much since the early days.  The BlogHerWriters conference inspired me again to think in words.  There I found people who loved them with me–and there was no expo floor!  I don’t resent the relationships developed with brands the opportunities gained–I’ve benefited too.  What I began to miss were the relationships and the conversations that I felt were given up in lieu of traffic.  But maybe that’s just sour grapes.  Who knows.  Now the words?  Let’s see if there are any more here.

I have quite a bit I’d like to tell this girl (other than the name of a good eye brow waxer and hair stylist).

There’s so much she doesn’t know. There’s so much she’ll fret over that isn’t worth the energy. There’s so much she’ll miss because of unnecessary fear.

I’d tell her to spend more time enjoying the little moments. I’d tell her there are some people she should spend more time with and others who don’t deserve even a minute.

I have so much I’d like to tell her, but I can’t.

What will I want to tell this woman in twenty years?

The brunette, not the blonde. The blonde is already brilliant.

I believe the original purpose of NaBloPoMo is to get writers to exercise their writing muscles. If this is the case, I think my posts may be the blogging equivalent of watching the Buns of Steel video while laying on the couch and calling it a workout.

Come on dear readers. I need a little help. Leave me a question, a writing prompt, loose change, whatever you can spare in the comments. I still have almost two weeks left.