Saturday, August 27, 2011

The Journey Begins Now


Have you read The Arduous Journey of An Average Artist?

It's a blog written by my friend. I won't say her name because sometimes she writes snarky posts about people she knows to get it off her chest and she doesn't want them stalking her for her snarkiness. Even though she changes names. BUT, she calls herself Miss Hobbit because she's short and likes Lord of the Rings. I love her a lot.

So Miss Hobbit is an artist. As evidenced by the title of her blog. But she's also a writer (which she won't really admit, but you can just tell). So we have a lot in common.

Miss Hobbit has been sick. Really sick. For a while.

She had to drop classes (even the ones she was taking with me!) last semester and I haven't seen as much of her ever since and I miss that girl. I miss her weird trench coat. I miss her uber-snarky sarcastic comments. I miss her giggling. Miss Hobbit is a giggler. In fact, she visited when my kids were here. We watched Fern Gully together and after she left they all said, "She is so funny. She giggles a lot." And I said, "Yeah, she's a giggler." Plus all her giggling makes me feel good about myself. I am freakin' funny.

So she's been sick and laid up in bed most of the time. She was over at my house the other night and I asked her about school. She said she might post something just for me on her other blog. When I looked it up today, I decided to visit her art blog, to see if she had been posting -- she stopped posting when she quit school -- and lo and behold, new posts! Including, this one. And I hope you'll go look at it, but even if you don't, I'm going to quote it here, because this is what I need. What a lot of us need. I'm going to put blanks where she talks about art, because what she says can apply to anything:

"I can't describe what I've been waiting for.
A feeling. A flutter. A whisper. A sign.

I've been waiting for this journey to begin itself.

But I've finally decided that I miss ________ - that my life is better
when I'm doing those things. I've been telling myself, "Later. Later. Later later later...

No more.

The Journey Begins Now

My journey in becoming ________, has to begin somewhere. It's not going to start itself next week or next month or in another hour. I have to choose to begin, and the choice cannot be put off. It may have a stunted, sad and sorry beginning, but that's okay. I don't need a great start - I just need to start."

(See what I mean about her being a writer?)

So. The Journey Begins Now.

Who's with me?

2 comments:

  1. Aw. :3 Thanks Lee! I'm glad that post was pertinent for someone else. I was pretty proud of it when I wrote it, so thanks for the props. :)

    And...just so you know...I'm also getting nearer to a place where I would be more willing to think about being, or at least the idea of being, a writer. ...maybe.

    Yeah.

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