Emotion Fueled Writing

I am writing to purge the excess baggage from my mind. I will write for ten minutes, give or take, without stopping to think, and allowing my mind to loosen and the unbridled thoughts and emotions to surface. When I am done, I will breathe deeply, correct spelling and press "Publish Post." This is what I want to do today. So, get ready, I am about to begin writing on the topic of "Emotion fueled writing."

I find that my best writing comes when I am filled with emotion, mostly of angst. This fact has bothered me for quite some time because I don't want to live my life in chaos and turmoil just to have something interesting to type into the computer. I want to learn how to access the emotion without being in that space. Otherwise, I'm nothing but a moody writer.

I've entered into this life of living. So much going on and while it is exciting, exhilarating and wonderful, it is exhausting. I hate when the red line comes beneath a word and I can't figure out how to spell it correctly. That red line ruins my flow because that is all I see, even while more and more words pile into this box that is lined in grey. I want to stop and go to spell check, which really irritates me because I should know how to spell better than what is going on now. Once upon a time I could spell, but there are still dead spaces in my brain, left over from the infection. There are still things that I don't see correctly. I can hear a name and forget it in the next moment. My eye itches and it is driving me crazy, along with my dry lips. Oh, I'm going to have to stop and rub my eye...

Now some red HTML message popped up. Leave me alone. I began taking a photojournalism course. At first I felt excited to be doing something so positive for my future. And then the course began and I am supposed to go around and take photos of strangers and get their names and ages. I love taking pics of people who don't know that I'm doing it. I love getting them just as they are, in that one moment. I don't love spoiling the moment by asking them questions. I can ask afterwards but doing so beforehand spoils the reality of what I'm capturing. Plus, I'm shy. Not shy when I have a job title that gives me a legitimate reason for taking a photo, but yeah, I am. And then we get this assignment to do a portrait of someone. I get afraid that I won't do the assignment to my potential. My mind is blocked for good ideas. I don't know anyone who is interesting, at least my mind can't remember. I struggle and my gut begins to hurt. I tell myself that I can't do it. I am ready to defeat myself one more time. The ideas start coming to me and soon I'm inundated with possibilities. The world opens up. But I want to do something different, that I've never tried before. Some studio work with lights. I've never used anything other than available light, or, on occasion, a flash. I like nature lighting. In my bag of tricks I discover a lens that would be perfect. I didn't know that I had a perfect lens, that is weird. I had two of them. I don't know how many lenses I have. Several months ago a young woman asked me to photograph her anorexia. I know that she also suffers from OCD. I declined at the time but then, there she was, in front of me. I asked her if she still wanted to do it. I am now in love with studio work.

In the meantime an advertisement pops up and tells me there is a free writing workshop at the library. Now, two nights a week are busy past my bedtime. I am exhausted, mostly from excitement. I have not functioned in a long time and it will take persistence to keep going.

My back is still killing me from a fall on the rocks and that adds to my exhaustion. And now I want to go to school and watch Beth present the owls to the children. I want to hear someone in North Idaho talk about how to act in nature - how to treat the wildlife. I need to be reminded for myself because those creatures excite the senses right out of me. And I want to photograph the horse program for foster children. I want to work with the horses. If I keep moving forward, slowly, maybe my energy will come back.

My ten minutes is probably up but there is more I want to write. Something about being even. Happy but not elated, no sadness, or very little. Questions pop into my head because I'm not afraid - afraid of being dumb. I can carry on a conversation. I can advocate for myself. Suddenly I don't take any crap from people. Now it is okay for people to think or say what they want to about me because I don't take it personally. This is all weird for me. I feel somewhat whole. I can say what is on my mind without hurting someone. I can apologize when I'm wrong, regardless of what the other person might of done. You are right, I'm too old to be celebrating these victories but better to get there than to never make it all.

Someone told me that my smiles were pissing them off. I just keep smiling. People tell me how pretty I am and how my smile lights up a room. They've told me those things my whole life but I couldn't smile. Today I see no reason not to. Now, I'm done.