Once there was a television commercial starring a little boy who stands at his home's front door and loudly announces that he is runing away. "I'm leaving now!" he said. He opened the door a crack, but never actually left the room.
"There is creative magic in the old blog for me, after all," I said in a tiny voice.
I thought I could still read your blogs and that would do it for me. Huh uh. I miss the interaction. I miss you. Besides, sitting on the sidelines feels voyeuristic, and I like to play.
The words in this space may be hesitant and sketchy, while I find my voice again. Feels like being in the middle of one of those swinging bridges I remember from a childhood visit to a state park.
The other reading/writing is going fine, but I'm not as happy. "Switched" is a space where I can stretch, lighten up, play and visit.