Seeing my thoughts printed

Seeing my thoughts printed is a heady sensation, which spreads throughout my body. It starts to claim other parts, my stomach, my throat as laughter rises like champagne. My fidgety parts- toes wiggling, ankle twitchy, twirling pencils and tapping things as I consider that ‘I do know how to write, after all’, I just don’t.

Just as when facebook claimed my emotions early on, recognizing that I do care what people think, and I do want acknowledgement, I just want to express sometimes unpopular ideas or opinions. When I realized that there is now a pipeline to connection with likeminded people, it started me on a time-spending mission of possibility. Too much possibility, as it happens.

There is still laundry, dinner, the dog and real people. Culling the wasteful and fine tuning what is significant and adds to action, for me and others is where the intersection of art and craft lies. One more voice that says what others feel without inspiring change that is meaningful just adds to the clamor.

But they liked me…

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