A Post on a Page?

A Page of posts….

Doubting Thomas in a Virgin Forest.

It’s funny that I don’t write in my journal anymore…I used to write every night, pouring my heart out, writing poetry and telling my dreams. No one ever read the words, and I was free to say what I truly had in my heart. It really helped me, healed me…

After many years of “blogging”, I’ve stopped writing what I truly feel. I try to edit myself. I long for the days when the rhymes flowed like water from a hillside spring, where it bursts forth crystal clear and cold. Facts, cold hard truth rolling off my lips.

Unedited. Untainted. The real un-lacquered Susan Todd.

Who put all this Angst in me? Filled me full of Green Envy? Longing for Love I’ll never feel again, Beauty I’ll never possess. I liken myself to a Crow, picking up every shiny thing, putting it in my nest, until suddenly there is no room for me. I’m buried under the things I wanted to own.

Yet, again, my pockets are empty. And my heart is full.

A comedy of coincidences, an epiphany of errors. Is this really ALL I’ve managed in a span of 6 decades? How did I squander so much? Why do I now want what mattered so little?

I have been contemplating what to wear to a big art exhibition I’m in on Thursday. I’m flying up to Chicago for Insights VI, I’ll be there with my Patrons, Dusty and Joyce Sang, and it will be a night full of emotion. It’s not so much what I’ll wear as to who I will be. I’ve found I deal with it better if I put on a costume of sorts, an identity. Then if I’m scared I can hide behind my persona. I used to do this unconsciously in the Usingtime. Now I choose to do it to feel safe.

I will choose to be confident and brave. To be different and cool. To be an Artist extraordinair!