Blogging is too easy. It fills a need in a snack food sort of way, and while I've met with some success, I'm on the whole not motivated to write much here anymore.

Something deeper is brewing, and blogging can't seem to touch it. My last longer post was an attempt to dig deeper, but re-reading it now I can see how hollow these little dispatches can be. Something within me ... more private ... wants out, and blogging merely saps the power from it.

"Everything is gestation and then bringing forth. To let each impression and each germ of a feeling come to completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own intelligence, and await with deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity: that alone is living the artist's life: in understanding as in creating." (rilke)

Now's a time to take a break from blogging and return to writing. Maybe the novel, maybe something else. I'll post photos as before, but for now will shift my words elsewhere for a while.

I'll see you on the other side.