Where to now?
Blog
Without Con.text I hover uncertain of my direction. I feel like my bones have been picked clean and a howling gale whistles through me; it snatches everything and yet still leaves me here. Where to now? I'm working and wishing that my inspiration will take flight. I miss my muse, I miss my heart. Today there is nothing to say. Slow moving marks on a blank page say nothing yet, and nothing yet I have been playing in vain with big, bold charcoal and flirting with inconsequential words: yearning....