On writing…

Not to be confused with another Mainer that wrote a title like that.

I’m at camp, Chloe and I have done all the set up things and things look good. It’s raining (All due respect to Allan Sherman) and breakfast is over and I haven’t found my camp inspiration yet. But it’s okay. At the moment, I’m finding some solace in peeling away from the world, sitting in the one room that gets wifi and writing perhaps a few short blog posts, which I’ll schedule to come over the following days.

At least, at camp, I can write in the nude. But this is certainly not me. ;)

At least, at camp, I can write in the nude. But this is certainly not me. ;)

Right now, however, given my lack of mojo, I’m thinking about writing. I like doing it and I’m enjoying the time and ritual of finding that space to write and I can dash off a few ‘pages’ in no time. But then I do just one proof and hit publish and it’s out there in the world. I don’t edit as much as I should. And that’s okay, to be honest. “Writers write” is the mantra and it’s true. Does my writing my blog make me a writer? Kinda? I write. I’m writing, I’m learning more. I am, in fact, practicing. After all, nobody steps up to the plate and smacks out home run after home run the first time. This is a good field trial.

Add to that writing portion of things that I am learning about myself, my kink and my relationships in the same breath and that’s even more helpful.

I will find my mojo while here. And I will make it work. Of this, I am positive.