Okay, I made that up “Writer’s Angst,” but I”m sure any writer out there will go, “Oh yea, I’ve had that.” Or something like it. I swear lately I have a deep feeling of angst every time I sit down to write. I look at my blog, and I think maybe it’s boring. I look at my stats and see that some days no one, really, NO ONE reads it. My teacher blog gets readers even when I don’t write for it, yet I insist on posting to this one. So I sit down and think about what I’ll write about that could be interesting, relateable, profound, humorous – anything that might make people glad they took the time to check in and read. And of course, with that attitude, nothing comes to mind that seems vaguely interesting. It’s the attitude.
A writer has to write. Doesn’t matter who or if anyone reads it. It doesn’t, and I need to keep that in mind. Sometimes I just seem to forget that part of who I am. I am a writer. Simple as that. But when I don’t write, what am I? A wonderer or a thinker? I don’t know. It’s the same way with photography for me lately. At times I’m an avid photographer, but lately my photos look
pretty really bad. Out of focus, weak light, poor composition. Very discouraging. So hm. What am I saying here? The things that I love to do/need to do aren’t happening and I feel like I’m losing touch with that part of myself.
I just don’t seem to be able to fit school and myself into the same life lately. I’m up at 5:00 and hit the pillow at 9:30 at night. I have time when I get home to do whatever I want to, but I’m so tired out that I don’t do much of anything. Except I still work out. And often I take walks when I get home, so I don’t really think it’s a physical tiredness. I think it’s the end of the school year and I’m overfull of thirteen-year-old energy. Yadayadayada all day long. Some days, I come home and I don’t want to say a single word. Poor Alex. I just want to be left alone.
In two weeks I’ll be bathed in quiet. Time to re-energize, write and take some pictures. I’ve had the first line of a new project rattling around in my head for weeks. I’ll finally write it down and see where it takes me if I give it the time it needs to percolate and develop. Two. More. Weeks.