I’ve been thinking about creativity a lot over these past weeks. What fuels it? What keeps it from striking a chord with the artist/writer? What keeps it from connecting with the audience? Is it something you can put your finger on?
I think it’s interesting to ponder. Some of the poems I’ve been writing I know haven’t been connecting with either me or the people reading them. I do better when I write the blog posts, but I feel somewhat blocked these days. Does disability or chronic illness affect the creative process? I’m sure it must. Some days I’m too tired or in too much pain to put words together. Even on days that I manage to keep going and write, there seems to be no real heart behind the words. On those days, should I just not write; or should I plow through in hopes that “tomorrow will be another day,” as Scarlett O’Hara says in ?
Dappled light fell on the couple as the sun set.
The young man wore a charcoal tuxedo;
His father’s silver hair would look distinguished on him one day.
The young lady’s face was somber and wan,
Because her elderly mother was not present for this big day.
She wore a pearl gray dress that her mother had been married in.
In spite of the uninteresting characters who attended their wedding,
The ones they couldn’t even remember that day through their murky memories,
The loving couple tied the knot that day.
Finding Our Voices Together 
I say follow your heart! 💚 💕
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