Blurred Vision


I have often felt comfortable in the midst of organized chaos. I have always, sub-consciously or otherwise, been drawn to it. New York city, the home of my heart. Seoul; the city I never knew I loved until I felt its indescribable pull and energy. How I miss it. The flurry of friendships and activities I have always immersed myself in. Work, school, classes, friends, family, dinners, teas, drinks, parties, plays, running, yoga, gym, Skype, books, wine, laughter. Sleep was always a secondary thought. A passing fancy. Something others needed but not me.

 Things are different now. In so many ways.

 Writing used to feel different. Words were a comfort, and ever flowing. I blended sarcasm and the meaning of life like it was a strawberry margarita. It feels different now. Stilted, rusty. I miss my voice.

Once upon a time, many years ago, I was an artist, an actor. I often feel I have lost my way. That I am scattered, adrift. That my passion has dissolved into the color that is the rest of my life. That the choices I have made were the wrong choices. Or bad choices. I look back at who I was and look at who I am.
  I am unrecognizable. Blurred. Messy. Simply chaotic.

I want to find myself again. Find my voice again. I wonder how it will sound now as opposed to then. I have grown, I have changed. I have been dragged kicking and screaming into something resembling "adulthood". Against my better judgement I have made decisions that to the untrained eye might seem I have some of that in me. Judgement that is. Of the "better" variety. 


….I think that last statement just proved my point.


But one thing that hasn’t changed is my desire to speak honestly about all the things I’m scared about. All the things I’m afraid I’m screwing up. Everything I don’t’ know and everything I think I do. And that, if I’m being honest, is the thing I have missed about writing.
I’m well aware my voice is rusty. My writing feels forced and stiff. I’d like to change that.



Resuscitate the through lines that helped give my messy life some meaning. Bring back the sharpness that has been lost. Breathe color into my mind again so I can see more from different angles. 


New York isn’t going anywhere. And a plane ticket to Seoul doesn’t seem to be in the cards anytime soon. I’ll have to look here instead.




So here I go again. Let’s see what happens. 

PS  HI. 






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