I feel like it's time to give all you readers an explanation. I probably should have explained earlier, but I dunno, it just now came to me-perfect example of what I'm now going to tell you about.

I have this thing. Most writers call it their Muse. I, personally, dislike that term because it reminds me of mucus which is never a good word to be reminded of. Seeing how that is the only term for it, though, I'll use it when I absolutely must. Anyway, this Musey thing controls my writing. I don't write well (I try to avoid writing at all when it's in a mood) when it doesn't want to. I write my absolute best when it is in prime writing mood (see "The Colors of Faith" and "Have you ever noticed that idiots have lots of friends?". I can't always tell how my Muse feels and a lot of times it surprises me, but usually I know when I should write and when I shouldn't.

The reason I haven't been blogging much is because my Muse has entered a dormant stage of sorts. It doesn't bother me because I know it will come back. It always does. I have faith in it, but it still saddens me when I am unable to express the world around me through words to my satisfaction. I've been using pictures for that more lately, but that's beside the point. I just wanted to let you all know that, I dunno, the Muse goes off and on and right now it's off. I look forward to writing more of all kinds of lit (except poetry, song lyrics, and all that stuff I don't write) and seeing how it all turns out, but for now, oh Muse, I'm content waiting upon your return.

I'll just keep painting, and reading and living, and observing the loveliness around me.

Lydia