Did not like the new Blogger in Draft. Too cold. Too new. I dislike change.
Which is why, though I usually wish I lived back in my home state of Connecticut, I am glad to be back in Michigan. I get discombobulated. And there is always that sense, when returning home, that you no longer belong there. That you've gone too far, and you can never go back. I'm awash in memories, saddened by the differences in the reality, and struggling to reconnect to family (who love me so much and are so happy to see me), struggling to reconnect to the girl I once was. I don't know her anymore. I think I would be afraid to know her--whether because I'd be embarrassed by her silliness, naivete, insane confidence, or that she'd be embarrassed by me, now. Which.
Getting up early to wander the yard, looking at spiders in the lavender and broken robin's eggs beneath the lilac makes one philosophical, I think.
Finally getting a chance to thoroughly catch up. Two marvelous pieces have just appeared, and it's like a gift to me, for coming home! Maybe not, but if those authors want to say they're a Welcome Home present, I would be glad.
Stars by Jacob Allgeier at Six Sentences. Micro-flash about an astronaut, with some of the most beautiful descriptions of emotions and the galaxy that I've read in a while. It thrilled my inner sci-fi girl. Read, read, read!
And John Xero celebrates the anniversary of his blog with a piece by Dee Harding, The Bird Garden. Myth and longing, exquisitely written.
Two of my very favorite subjects, done well by talented writers. Very inspiring.
Now to work on my own piece, finally. I feel I've taken a stellar, spectacular piece off the rails, and I'm not sure how to get it back on track. Time to give this some cold, hard thinking. Is it beyond me, perhaps, the intellectual discussion between two characters? Or is it not that, but that I'm winding towards an unsatisfying end? Preparing the cold steel of the sword of editing...