So I’m starting over.
I used to blog about once a month on another site. I suspect I will be so busy these days no one will hear from me for lengthy periods of time. You are fairly warned that mine is an erratic and disconnected blog.
WordPress astounds me in its relative complexity to all my other hobbies. I usually only require a pencil and some paper … here I need computer skills. Forgive my ignorance as I work through the experience of blogging again.
My fingers are stuffed with nervous energy, a constipation I can barely control.
collage inspired by nervous energy
I have a multitude of projects going on, but because of this frenetic backlog of emotion I feel I need to do more. Inside I know that taking on more tasks will only lead to a crash of such velocity and force I will be obliterated. Instead, I try to fine tune and adjust the projects I am already involved in by making them bigger. My ambition grows in me like a fetus, and I nervously press my palms to my navel, expecting to burst.
And so I moved my blog.
Part of this expansion inside me wills itself into reality by the effects and affects of those around me. For example, Bryan decided he needed a blog to journal all his energy into. (As usual I support him full-stop.) I am used to another blog service. He chose this one. To test it as though it were bath water for an infant, I touch its liquid force to my nerve centers. I need to explore. I need to find out. I need to know. Also, Lori of “A Quiet Week In The House” fame uses WordPress as her muse, though to be fair she is trendier and savvier than I and probably uses a web host. But I needed something new, some different toy to play with. And here I am.
Lost On A Street Called Ethel 