It's 10:20 on Tuesday night.
I'm pretty certain this is the first time in a good bit that I've been able to sit down, take a long deep breath and write something.
I've actually been dying to write something.
But I'm not sure what to write about. And I have to get up a little earlier tomorrow to drive out to Mansfield, Ohio. I look up and over the top of my MacBook. The Sandman is sitting across from me, pointing at his watch.
I look back down. Battery life is 34%, and the charger's in my car.
Some writer's block going on here. A lot of things happened within the last month, so I don't think my problem is content.
I think about Nova Scotia. That happened.
Ryanne and I are descending French Mountain. A single yellow line on the road catches the lightning and illuminates below me. It turns to two with the following rumble of thunder. I wonder aloud, "Did we leave the the snow shelter too soon?" I wave Ryanne to get ahead, and her taillight burns through the fog as she passes. She gets ten feet in front of me and disappears. The rain pelts my face and a van full of Japanese tourists hug the berm to my left, climbing- hoping to emerge from the nothingness we are giving ourselves up to. They wave. I hold on.
It's 10:45, now. Nova Scotia deserves a little more time.
26% battery.
Ian and I were asked to shoot the Anthropologie Fall Fashion Show in the South Hills. That also happened. I need more practice taking photos of things that move.
Definitely writer's block. And my blogger-reader-thing is getting updated daily with literally almost nothing. So, I think whatever I have is going around. That, or summers have been super busy.
But for now, it's time to get my shit together and think of something to write.
