So, it's been an embarrassingly long time since I've written. It's not for lack of interesting things in my life. Maybe more of a lack of knowing how to accurately put it all into words. But I decided that I didn't want this blog to just be a hat tip to the ol' Livejournal where you, the reader, are subjected to all the boring little things and itty bitty details in my life. This was and is intended to be a place where I try to relearn what I once loved to do, writing.
I used to do it all the time. Filled notebook upon notebook with stories, poems, song lyrics (don't ask) and idle thoughts. Over time I got busy. I picked an academic area that, though I love it, is not much on the creative side. Rather than search for time outside of my education to do those creative things I loved I let it die. It's sad when that happens. The talent and passion I once had sits there dusting next to my violin and wrench. The wasteland of things I once did and now don't nearly do enough.
These past few weeks has been my revival, my renaissance period. I helped backstage for the area YSA Broadway review. I picked up my violin and played for awhile. When no one was around to hear how terrible I've gotten, obviously. And I started writing more. School is there, I work and write for that, but in the evening I pull out my big red book and I write. It's been hard at first because I realized something tragic. I had nothing to write about. No stories. No characters lurking in the back of my brain, creeping into the foreground to be penned. Nothing. That was a surprisingly scary feeling. Something that used to come so easily to me and that I loved to do so much was a strain. Rather than just sitting down and going to town I had to dig around and figure out what I wanted to write about. Halley the 15 year old wrote about one thing. But what does Halley the 25 year old have to say? How is she going to say it? What do I love enough to write about? And then it hit me, traveling. I spent 5 months traveling all over Ireland and other parts of Europe. I studied in a different education system. I flippin' fell in love with an Irishman for crying out loud! Why had I not written any of this down! How could I have done this so pivotal period of my life so little justice! So I dug through the books in the house, knowing there would be help there. I found some travel books and even a guide to writing travel books well. And now, I'm writing for me again. I'm experimenting, I'm exercising, and I'm trying to put those muscle back in shape. And I can't wait to see what I get.
Tonight I did an exercise on destination travel writing, giving life and color to a specific place and the specific things that happen there. I wrote about Galway, a town on the west coast of Ireland butted right up against the Atlantic Ocean. It's my favorite place in Ireland, and I put it all down on paper. With some clean up and touch ups I'll put it here. Feedback appreciated but not required. And oh there will be more my friends. I am figuring out who I am and what I love again. Not likely that is going to end any time soon either. That corpse pile of forgotten talents was too scary to allow back.
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