With Twitchy Hands and Sweat-beaded Brow

I’ve reached seven days smoke-free and I’m slowly attempting to return to writing. It is only now that I’ve put down the smokes that I’ve become aware of how vital they were to my personal writing process. Stumped for an idea? Take a walk on the parapet and have a cigarette. Not sure how to form the next section? Light up a Camel and turn the idea over in my head until I found a crack to grasp. Working without that “creative tool” is like starting rehabilitative physical therapy. I know how things are supposed to work, but my mind and body aren’t sure as to how to make it happen.

Unfortunately, things worth doing are never easy and the only way back home is usually via the hard road. I’ve no choice but to knuckle down and work past this. Posting will now resume, but I wouldn’t expect much initially if I were you. Just finally being able to string a few sentences together in a cohesive manner will be my initial goal. In many ways, it’s as if I’m starting this blog from scratch and attempting to find my voice and bearings again. This could result in some interesting choices of topics and direction, as well as a varying level of quality. Things with crystallize over time, I hope.