Pencils

For some reason I was going to write this epic blog post this morning, telling you about everything that is going on in my life. I was going to tell you about my adventures taking care of my mom who has short term memory loss, my frustrations with drawing and trying to get things to look like the way I see them in my head, writing stories, getting rain after a year long drought, working on books for months and years and finally finishing some of them, but not all...

But I have a cold, and feel deflated, like an old inner tube.

So instead I tell you about how how every morning  I sharpen a handful of pencils and place them on the left side of the desk and by midnight they are all dull and in a row on the right side of the desk waiting to be sharpened again.

 

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“It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are still alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger for them.” ~ George Eliot