I could write…

11454297503_e27946e4ff_hIt’s one of those days. I don’t want to write. Over the past week or two, my writing volume has dropped. A lot. My morning pages have gone from 3 pages to 2 to maybe 1 or even just 1/2 page. I’m not feeling motivated AT ALL. I feel like I don’t have anything I want to say or to explore.  I’m sitting here right now, listening to the rain falling outside, wondering how it can be Tuesday already, and searching for something to write about.

I could write about school pictures. We just got ours back and after an initial, “Wow! I don’t have as much grey as I thought!” I am now convinced that the photo people must have altered my photo. In the picture my hair, which in real life is liberally streaked with grey, is brown. I think they may have also decreased the depth of the divot between my brows. It’s the one day a year that I blow dry my hair and wear make-up, but I know that can’t have made this big of a difference. Oddly, I’m a bit disgruntled about this. I did not ask to be altered!

I could write about hearing the barred owls at night. How their cries echo into our room and pull us from sleep. How we whisper to each other, “Did you hear that?” I could describe the quiet hush that cocoons us as we strain to hear another call. How we listen for them and I imagine their powerful wings pumping through the night, weaving through the trees. How their calls fade and we drift back off to sleep.

I could write about how I fell in love… with a pitchfork at a garage sale. I  was entranced with the old wooden handle, thick and time-worn. I was fascinated by the lines of it, the feel of the wood in my hand, the thoughts of how many people had used it through the years. I put it down, but kept returning to it until finally I asked, “How much for this?” Then, as my husband shook his head, I bought it. I still have no idea what I’m going to do with it, but it really is beautiful–at least to me.

I could write about any of these or about the colors of fall emerging or about photographing a green heron or about so many other things…but the rain is still falling and I can’t settle on any one thing. I still feel restless, unsettled, unmotivated. But I did write a slice. Sort of. And for tonight, I guess that will have to be enough.

15 thoughts on “I could write…

  1. I can’t wait to hear what you do with the pitchfork.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. kelseycorter says:

    I read your owl paragraph twice. That one really pulled me in, brought me back to days of living in the woods. I hope you find your motivation soon, your writing is beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

    • mbhmaine says:

      Thanks, Kelsey. That is one I’ve been considering writing about for a while. I’m enthralled by the sound of the owls calling into the night–it feels like I’m hearing a call from another universe.

      Like

  3. margaretsmn says:

    I started reading your slice, and then said, “Heck, if Molly can write about not writing, so can I.” And toggled over to write a slice about writing fears. If I just open the page, something will be written. That’s what it’s all about. Like the quote on TWT blog today, “Your voice needs to be heard.” Thanks for sharing. And, BTW, I love that you love a pitchfork.

    Liked by 1 person

    • mbhmaine says:

      Margaret, I’m so glad you opted to write because I really loved your slice! Obviously I was struggling to write :), but I feel so much better for having written. Isn’t it always that way?

      Like

  4. judyman says:

    Sometimes, it’s less about the content and more about the process — the act of writing. Just keep doing it, and the ideas will come. They are already there, little seeds waiting to germinate. I personally would love to see a feminist essay on having been photoshopped. You are lovely and it’s really rather unsettling that anyone would take it upon him or herself to alter you. Just my ten cents. Write on. No matter what, just write.

    Liked by 1 person

    • mbhmaine says:

      Judith, you’re so right! Process is so important and that’s something I lose sight of sometimes. It did occur to me to write at length about being photoshopped–what it says about our culture, my value as an older woman, etc. I mean I earned every one of those grey hairs! Thanks for reading, commenting and for being ever-encouraging!!

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  5. Quintina Smith says:

    This was such a wonderful way to write about not writing. I loved the random thoughts. I had trouble today two, so I wrote a short poem. Now I feel like I cheated. Lol!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I loved this slice! You took us through your thoughts, calmly and clearly, and I am happier for reading these words. Thanks!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I had the good fortune to learn how to teach writing from Donald Murray and Donald Graves at the University of New Hampshire. Murray thought that a writer doesn’t let one day go by without writing one line. That’s it. One line. Some days are one line days. A quote of his from Wikipedia page – “Each time I sit down to write I don’t know if I can do it. The flow of writing is always a surprise and a challenge. Click the computer on and I am 17 again, wanting to write and not knowing if I can”.

    Annie always has some wisdom for us, “The sun will come up tomorrow.”

    Liked by 1 person

    • mbhmaine says:

      Oh, lucky you, Dan! And lucky me to have had you as an instructor at UNE. You definitely made an impact on my writing life and how I teach writing. Thanks for sharing the quotes. One line is definitely achievable, and so often that’s what primes the pump. Thanks for the reminder!

      Liked by 1 person

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