A Blog on the Page Is Worth Ten in the Head

If it's not published, you can't read it.  Goes without saying, but I said it anyway.  In the great gap that was this last December, dozens of Things I get to do today formed into thoughts.  Phrases, clever and some not so much so, shaped ideas about what my hands were doing as a busy Handy Andy.  Creativity pulsed through to become objects. Some of those objects were amazing: the door mat made out of recycled 2x4 concrete forms, cut into ⅜" strips, drilled with holes, cut to length and then threaded with manila rope.  But no picture, no writing, no blog.  It was all stuffed away in the darkness of my head.

Being too busy (or to careless) to write starts a long list of troubles: not being mindful each moment to seek out the bliss waiting to reveal itself, not keeping promises to take time to write tomorrow, losing the sparkle of creativity in each simple task, forgetting to purposely flavor actions with glorious intent, missing the satisfaction of accurate description and focused inspiration.  And that's just from my side of the blog.

Two readers actually asked where I'd gone.  Another expressed great pleasure and relief when I returned to the screen.  Thank you for waiting.  At the end of the sand details from yesterday's blog, a sunset was painting itself to an end.  It's now out of my head and on the page for you.

Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach, Oregon