To Blog or Not to Blog...

that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler to open one's soul to the vast reaches of the internet, or bury one's inner thoughts within the dry leaves of a private journal. Okay, I admit it, I'm faking. Although I was an English major, I don't remember a speck of Shakespeare.

And I'm also faking that I have such contemplative thoughts about blogging. The real reason I haven't posted anything for two weeks is nothing so profound. The truth is, I've been playing hookey.

I've always been pretty good at that. At my preppy high school, I figured out that the person who legally got out of class most frequently was the yearbook and newspaper photographer. So I bought a camera, got someone to teach me how to develop film and prints, and then talked my way onto the staff.

I admire all of you who have the discipline to work every day, a little at a time. I try to do that too, and sometimes I'm more successful than others. But my true nature is to piddle around and then at the last minute work incredibly hard towards a deadline. So it's kind of inevitable that there's usually a let-down or a tad bit of depression after a goal is reached.

I sensed that June was talking about the same kind of thing in her description of what she felt after Quilt National. A sense of loss of a goal that has been driving you for a long time. Like "what do I do now?"

Oh, I still have lots of ideas. Just not too much motivation.

Instead, I've been doing lots of things normal people do. Watching some movies, reading some books, shopping, spending time with my increasingly growing extended family, planting some flowers, trying to remember how to cook.

I think it's okay to take some time off. Maybe the creative spirit needs to rest sometimes. Or even hibernate. Someday soon, it'll wake up and come out of its sleepy cave, a bit shaggy-looking, grouchy, and hungry.

As a matter of fact, I did get a haircut today, and I'm not sure if it was the hair-cutting or the fact that I grabbed an old sketchbook on the way out of the door, intending to draw while I waited for the super-blackish-purplish color to soak into my hair and hopefully not the skin around my ears, that made me start to feel creative again. Instead of drawing, I was surprised to find and fascinated to read through old journal entries and drawings I did a couple of years ago.

It was interesting to remember things I was doing, thinking back then, but also reaffirming and exciting to see that things that I had imagined and sketched were indeed happening today. Okay, so maybe it's time to wake up and get back to work.

But please excuse me if I hit the snooze button just a few more times...