Late last summer, when I first started writing this blog every single day and pouring my heart and soul into it, it was because I felt a natural urge to do so. Every single post I wrote for months and months came from a sincere place, and if I didn't feel inspired to write something, I just didn't. For the past month or so, I have felt an artistic anxiety unlike anything I've experienced before, and I've been unsure of how to filter it into a product. As a result - and you may have noticed this - my writing and my blog have suffered. I've tried to create posts, and have succeeded at times, but mostly I have faltered. I've noticed that the quality of my work has dipped, and my readership has dropped off. Rather than continue on like nothing is changing, I thought it best to just be honest - since my blog was born out of an honest place - and keep it real in BtoA land.
As y'all know, I write a lot on my phone. I wrote this late last night on the bus home, and I think it adequately expresses how I've been feeling recently. Mostly because it's completely stream of consciousness and unedited. So, here it is.
I feel filled with an energy I can't explain. Up until recently, I have always just wanted to write. Forever and ever I've written, and had the urge to write, and have written. I always thought that was my ultimate calling, but now I'm not sure; not because I don't want to write anymore, but because I feel some new urge to create visual and audial things. I see myself crouched over papers, stop-going on camera, splattering paint on walls. I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing or why.
The fact that I'm compelled to write this down at all means something. Writing is still my first method of expression, my go-to for needing to get things out to the universe. But I feel an undeniable thing growing inside me, to express myself and make things in ways I never thought of before. I want to wrap my arms around a guitar player and have him love me back. I want to sing and write music and stay true to myself as I create beautiful things to share with other people. I want the present, past and future of New York to live through me. I want to breathe it in and feel it grow and burst out of me in whatever ways it deems best. Nanoosh. McDonalds. Symphony Cleaners. The Food Emporium. Duane Reade. Chase Bank. C town town town. Welcome to the johnsons. Brooklyn. Harlem. The 6 train. The M15. Summer in the park. Sunlight. Green grass. Patti and Robert. Love. Art. Friendship. Family.
I want to know my purpose. What I'm supposed to make for the world. I'm pleading with the universe regularly to show me.
How do I find it?
After this post, my blog is probably going to go through a bit of a transformation. I've been wanting to experiment with photography, videography, painting, drawing, decorating, everything. So - for those of you who care - you will probably see more posts relating to that type stuff starting soon. My posts will probably be more sporadic, less scheduled, and more varied in nature. Ultimately, for me, it always comes back to writing, so it's not like I'm going to stop using words. But I'm going to start doing other things too, as soon as I figure out where to start.
On the walk home, on my block, I stopped in my tracks on 104th street when I saw this stenciled on a door outside a church.
It says, "If it is to be, then it is up to me." Then it says, "God loves you."
I've walked 104th street a hundred times, even before I moved here, heading to my old home from Zac's apartment - but I didn't see this sign until tonight. It seems, of course, incredibly appropriate.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do, which is a very foreign feeling. I hope that those of who you really love my blog and feel some sort of connection with me will hang around while I navigate this unknown part of my life. I think and hope and pray that it will be worth it.
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