the oldest...
... and the youngest...
... both of whom are to blame for the lack of activity around here (more on blame later). the youngest one suckles my time, as much of it as he can get his greedy little mouth on, straight from the nipple into the round universe of his belly. late evening musings, early morning surges of inspiration, quiet afternoon meditations and dead-of-night epiphanies all seem to be swallowed with equal delight, never making it to a piece of paper, let alone a computer screen.
but i can also blame the other one, my best friend, my soul mate, long searched for in the corners of the visible and invisible world, found at last, almost lost again, and now here, with me, father to my son, sharing my home and my life. i can talk to him now, every hour of every day. and everything i say he wants to hear. so why would i write?
was all this writing born of the necessity of saying that which nobody wanted to hear? is writing nothing but the blind search for an audience. and now that the audience has been found, no more words?
i don't know. we'll see...
1 comment:
not the only audience those two- though precious they are- others want and need to hear as well....
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