Updated at 9:22 PM to 46,120
only at 44,435 so far, keep working stuff into, and around in, yesterday's work, rather than moving ahead.
I realize what is wrong with the feeling of the work, that strained feeling rather than joy. Because I am not fully scening, seeing. Rather I am moving forward in narrow views, trying to get words ahead.
A few minutes ago, I added the words, bee-eater, and jacamar, into something I wrote yesterday and was surprised by how happy, these, shouldn't be there anyway but are, bird words made me.
I am not going to change how I am working, I am putting one word down then the next trying to move ahead,
but I am going to go back after I do get to the ending, and dream into it more. Have it come more fully alive, and play in it.
And then I am going to go back in a third time, and cut things down, and chop extra stuff away.
But I am not living in it now, fully immersed and swimming deep, in all this vibrant stuff.
No I act like I am walking a tightrope, and just trying to move quickly across some scary abyss.
remember Tiffany, standing in a garden filled with all the stuff you like best, standing in a story filled with all the things you like best. Drop your fear off here. Toss all that stuff down, come, come dream with me...
I want to hear it pitch and hum :)
I've forgotten why I am here, why I am walking this path, one is of course a desire to be a writer, but that is only one of the reasons for telling myself this story.
Updated to- today's writing didn't go any faster, but after giving myself this little talk I was more relaxed, it felt more like walking through something and really trying to see and observe, where as yesterday it had felt like I was battling some beast.