Eight months. Can you even list everything that has happened in these eight months, since I last added letters to this piece of Internet real estate? I know I could, but it would drain me, for sure.
I’ve seen my favorite band “live”, in a unique setting to say the least. I’ve lost a pet, to circumstances I will not make public for my own reasons. I have fought with people very close to me for the death of George Floyd and the state of racism in this country (oh believe me there will be a post on the subject). I have dreaded for my own health, for Y.’s, for D.’s, for my parent’s back home.
Let’s just say, it hasn’t been boring.
And no, I haven’t truly been able to take this extra free time to hone in on what I’ve always wanted to do. I have a used guitar, gifted to me by my landlord, still waiting to be repaired. My microphone lies in wait for the podcast I said I would begin but am yet to do so. And well, look at the last post. (You could also check my blogs in Spanish if you would like, though.)
I’ve read so many posts about the incapacity to create. “Hey, it’s ok, you’re under stress”. “Don’t feel forced to be creative or productive”. And I get it. The name of the game is uncertainty. Y. has been on furlough sine mid-April. I went back to work in early May. It was good for a while but now it’s slowing down. And there are car payments. And insurance. I pay the rent and utilities and entertainment, but there’s always a but.
So what to do?
I sit down and write.
I took up journaling again, for the gazillionth time. And I actually kept it up. It was re-inspired by my finding of David Sedaris’ visual diaries, but also by the passing of my uncle, a poet of some importance back home in Venezuela. I started collecting Funko! figurines a little seriously, and it’s turned into a hobby for Y., since she personalizes them for customers.
We’ve been hanging in there. But I kinda need a breakthrough. Like, yesterday. Say, a new job, or a winning lottery ticket, or a book deal. Either one would be nice.
If you’re a subscriber, thank you for not deleting me. I’ll be back in force, I promise. Mostly because I need this. I need to be creating. Be it origami, drawing, writing, doodling or, yes, podcasting. It’s going to be a thing. I hate that I have chosen to let survival dominate over living. Yes, I cannot, as an adult and family man, neglect any of my responsibilities, be it my significant other, the child we are raising together, or the wholeness of my home; but I also cannot, as a creative individual, suppress my urge to make. Time will be found, and balance will be struck. And this blog will remain alive.
My Mind in Letters 