no mo mojo

I've been busy as hell lately and getting nowhere fast, much like the treadmill at the gym that I haven't been to in three weeks. It's the old cliche'; the hurrier I go the behinder I get, and I do mean that in the most literal, and unappealing sense.

And yet, through all the activity I've been oddly lacadaisical. Lethargic and dull-witted, I've been devoid of anything resembling a creative spark. Anxiety about the health and welfare of family members, as well as problems typical of homeownership and far too tedious to relate here have left me mentally competent but completely lacking in imagination. It seems I am missing that certain lightness of being required to write in a public forum.

It isn't that one need be cheerful to write, publicly or otherwise, of course; we write, paint and create as often from a place of darkness as light. Some would argue more so. It's just that any act of creation requires exertion and the blog form, where we ask virtual strangers to take a moment out of their busy lives to spend a moment or two in ours, demands a more measured sort of effort and energy than one intended for private use only. For some reason, I haven't been up to it.

I am, I suspect, only writing this much in order to try and lubricate the joints, as it were. I don't think it's working. Too few martinis and not enough yoga are making Lotus a dull girl.

Goodbye, joie de vivre. Hello, cabbage soup.


*graphic: Anne Taintor Inc.