Cloudbreak

Woe is me.

I have this recurring theme. I don't know what my blockage is, but it is starting to ge annoying.

I almost feel close to breaking out of this cycle. Close to my inspiration. That is now what I think I have been missing all these years. It is a hard thing to track. I get feelings from things when I am close. Clues if you will. Inklings. Life is structured normally to divert the impulse to inspiration. The whimsy that can be so powerfully driving is often marginalized by the pragmatic furniture of the ordinary life.

I've been staring blankly at the furniture for so long that sometimes I feel like I don't know myself.

But I do know myself.
Why have I been burying myself prematurely? Some bad homage to Edgar Allan Poe? Fine. That is part of who I am. Always a bit close to the darkness, yet within me a strong light burns. Passion. So close to the surface, SO CLOSE, but often not shining through quite strongly enough. And the sun is getting on its way.

Let this post accompany the picture it is tied to. The brief break in the clouds before the rain returns again. The darkness pressing back in.

But we know there is sun.