from the pen of icarus blake

Today, I woke up at 1:10 PM.  Left to my own devices, I consistently sleep until 11.  Give me a late night, and we can push that time forward to noon.  Not later, though, so seeing the afternoon glaring at me through my phone screen threw me for a loop.  It took me an hour or so to remember we sprang forward in the night.

I lost an hour.  Not unusual, I do that all the time.  Lose an hour to a mid afternoon nap, to scrolling mindlessly on my phone, to Masterchef.

This blog’s been feeling the brunt of those losses.  I sit down, and decide I don’t want to write.  I see the daily prompt and sneer at it, then close the tab.  And now I haven’t posted anything new in over a week.  Go figure.

It’s not even writer’s block.  Blogging is my warmup, a fine introduction to a day of editing and writing new things.  I have things to share with you, but when I sit down at that blank screen my mind cringes away from being known by strangers on the internet.  Why should I share my thoughts?  My innermost experiences with you?

And experiences I have been having.  Happy March, I’ve been keeping quite close to my New Year’s Resolutions.  I have multiple projects happily chugging along.  (If you haven’t checked out the little episodic novel I’ve got going on Tapas, I encourage you to do so.  It’s a wolfy good time.)

The irony of that initial resistance to sharing is that, now that I sit here writing to you, I’ve got so many things I want to tell you about.  My trip to Convergence Station earlier this week and what I think about it as an immersive art experience, my emotional breakdown in the bird room of Convergence Station (blame me not, I have feelings about California Parakeets).  I could tell you about the process of editing and the multiple other projects I have on the backburner, about the new idea for a goofy little sci-fi novel I came up with a few months ago.  I could tell you about my forays into jewelry making, leather working, wood burning, about my recent research into transmissible cancers or the hoaxers in the human paleontology sphere.

I have so many things to tell you about.  The blank page is lying to me.