NIGHT AND DAY, I AM THE ONE

Okay.  Here we are sitting at the desk again.  Page is empty.  Nothing today is coming up in the mind.  Alot of well meaning intent to work is present but no actual productivity.  It could be that it is day time, a bright and sunny day meant for serious work, but I am beginning to believe I am of the nocturnal sort.  Not only do I thrive in the deep dark navy blue night, but my best work emerges...like bats out of the cave, rushing to life! I am most creative when everyone else's mind is long departed the hours of consciousness.  Every evening I hear the great singular owl in my woods and know it's time to write and draw. 
If I look in the mirror will I see a caricature of a Halloweenish face...dark and eery, or the pig tailed girl in a red corduroy jumper I draw and call "Abigail"...an obvious self portrait. 
Let's face it, when everyone else is asleep, the telephone doesn't ring from the office, the washer and dryer are done churning, the mailman/woman isn't rapping at the door, and the animals lie peacefully together, curled around themselves in slumber.  My darling sweet husband is fast asleep long before I, and my son is at college so I know he's perfectly safe and sound...right? Don't answer that last question...I consider no telephone call a sign that all is well with him. So, I ask myself, isn't this the perfect time to really hone in on my creative right and left side brain?  And what about the top and bottom or middle of my brain...those sections are feverishly at work as well.  We're plugged in and the thoughts pour out of me....onto the paper and into the computer via my fingers, tentacles of energy typing rapidly to the words as they line up in my mind to connect to become sentences.

Nightfall is fast approaching.  It's just after five pm.  Time to get ready for I am the one, the only, in this house that will yearn for the dark to begin my thoughts and work!  Is this normal?  Don't answer me.  Wackiness is what gives color to my work.  I'll quietly keep it tucked inside by day...and let it jump out at night.  Best of both worlds.  

Writing a Children's Book: Late Nights

Once again it's late at night.  I'm in between yawns. It's isn't easy writing thoughts that will translate into meaningful feelings to others who read mere words.  And it is difficult to focus on the subject matter...chasing the imagery,

 the direction seems scattered at times...but always, it is an adventure as to how far my imagination can go...and it does...and I am always surprised and delighted...to giggles!

I move along with the story as though I were living in it...transported by my seemingly effortless racing mind, and I begin to believe in my own ridiculousness and think, "Why not?"  Then it becomes reality that "could be" and perhaps "should be".  I start to laugh inside myself and the more I laugh the more preposterous a tale blooms from my fingers.  It is medicine of joy for me...a middle aged woman who conjures up the stories of a child.  Pouring forth like a river of  bubbling lava, I have a warmth in my soul that reveals itself through my pens, colors, and incredibly silly thoughts...so what if they are strange or weird or unbelieveable...what if what we think of IS? Chuckles. Time to go back to the drawing board...and write more silliness!

It's well past midnight...time to go to sleep...and dream up some things to write tomorrow! Goodnight Walker! Goodnight Adriel! xoxo