I’m not really sure what to do with this blog right now. I look at my posts and my enormous list, and none of it fits.
Homeless.
I do occasionally try to write new things, but they don’t seem to fit. Or worse, I look at what I’ve written and realise I don’t like the tone. I don’t like who I’m trying to be on these pages.
I don’t know her any more.
On the end of my rope 
I wrote very little for about two years. After a few years of regular blogging, it was a bit alarming, but then a friend pointed out that I had a lot to say, but it wasn’t time to say it yet. This year, things have returned to an even keel and I’m writing more than I ever have before. Don’t worry if you aren’t writing publicly. Get a journal and just write and write and write. Or not. You’ll know yourself again. And in the meantime, I’ll be thinking of you. Take care xx
get a journal
but don’t write
draw
paint
collage
doodle
scribble
i used to be a writer by profession
then somethings happened
and there were no words
but there was art
may you discover the art of being you
allowing yourself to be where you are now
may you feel released from this space
if it no longer serves you
{{hugs}}
I had a big blog rest for more than a year until I figured out some stuff to say. Instead of stuff to not-say.