Preamble

There is a small piece I want to write about the past year. Whenever it comes, that will be post #1. But I need to remember how to write first. I won’t be waiting on perfection or anything. I just want to figure out my voice these days.

Today I’m forcing myself to do something I’ve been wanting to do, kicking and screaming. The only goal is to hit the blue “Publish” button. Also to not delete the post 5 minutes later.

I used to like to write, but it’s been a while. I tried to keep a journal a couple summers back and found myself boring. I decided to read more, seeking the interesting ways people say things. I used to do that too. It took some time to remember how to read, but we got there. Who knew active reading was a perishable skill?

It’s weird to think you can drop a hobby for 10 years. A wall starts to rise around it after a while. It would be easy enough to topple, but it won’t be much taller tomorrow. You might not even notice it growing. Of course I can write, I write every day, but I forgot how to tell a story. I’ve forgotten how to persuade. I have gotten lost in to-the-point technical language at work.

I wrote a small screen play as a kid. I find that notebook every few years and can’t help but open it. Its never as long as I remember. I wasn’t as clever as I probably thought I was, but it always makes me smile. I’m glad its survived college, moving states, and the apartment hopping of my 20’s. It reminds me that I have a creative side somewhere in there.

Starting a blog is fairly outside of my comfort zone, writing aside. I am generally open with strangers I’ll never see again and the friends I’ve known for years. Everyone in between gets a different, more guarded me. I’ve been working on that. I’m going to try to forget they may read this.