Tumbled Words

Playing is learning, and learning can be work, so if I am playing I am working, right? I won’t say how long I worked at auditioning looks and animations and backgrounds for my Meez character. Meeone takes top right billing, later she will have to slide down the side to make way for other things, but today she celebrates one of the many parts of me. Wait, not just one, I see several represented in her and her actions. And no, I do not skateboard, not that I wouldn’t love to wear a sweaty helmet and sweaty knee pads and wrist guards. (That was sarcasm in case it was not recognizable) Wait! That was Florida, I don’t live there anymore, they might keep me warm here, but then, don’t think I want the torn clothes and bruises that would go with it today.

But rocker at heart, yeah. Had to sans the boots though, they weren’t free, and today is only about free. And free time is over until tonight. Late lunch is next, followed by reporting to “work” in my still nearly empty home office. I do get to pick my own hours, although, I have a feeling afternoon hours could well lead to never bothering to show up for work since I am so easily distracted.

Edit: I deleted her, she was slowing down my blog’s loading and I needed also to concentrate on writing for a while. Mee

either I commit to making the room I cleared out an office to do the business end of writing or I just continue to play. Actually, the commitment has been made, it is the procrastination and the fun in both participating and watching words fall on the page into (sometimes) cohesive thoughts that has been the hold up. I get lost in the magic of words appearing from nowhere, in spite of knowing that nowhere is actually somewhere in my subconscious. That does not absolve me from the need to edit many of those words, but it does feel like the magic will be lost when the crafting (editing) begins.

In school, so long ago I barely remember it, I wanted to use important words, write at a more scholarly level. In March of 2006, I began taking online classes and writing whenever I wanted, which was nearly every day. I discovered I prefer to write simple words that become phrases anyone can read, immediately understand, and more importantly, feel. My writing mission statement written in an August class:

To convey and evoke emotions in a manner that will give my readers unspoken permission to feel; to act as a catalyst for their understanding (of self and others) and healing.

It seemed such a simple (and natural) statement then, it was totally me: the me I was, the me I wanted to be. It still is, but it also feels like responsibility weighing down my shoulders when I read between the lines.

So:

1st - Seattle Seahawks vs. Chicago Bears

2nd - Create my office

because today is the day.