I used to be a poet. Not the happy sweat poet. My poetry was dark and sad. Its how I used to cope with my overbearing emotions. But since logan's death, the saddest possible day of my life this far, I've had writers block. And though I feel like this blog has helped me to work through a lot of the darkness, I realized tonight that my writers block is due to the fact that I feel like my words are severely inadequate.
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2 comments:
Heather, I'm sorry that you are experiencing writers block. Hope things turn around for you. It can be so frustrating when the Art we know seems lost to us. Your post fascinates me. Here's why:
I'm a musician and when my daughter died, I felt like music was dead to me too. I couldn't sing, I couldn't read new songs, I couldn't play the piano and I couldn't create music. It was gone. But, I was writing poetry like mad and seeing images, that I drew, tried to paint and photographed. I have this suspicion that this phenomenon is not rare, but probably typical. I thought it so rare that my music skills were unavailable to me, but other art skills were exploding out of me.
This happened to me too. I missed several deadlines and finally had to back away from my staff writing job. I've written a few pieces in the last 2 years but they are few and far between.
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