Words fight their way up and out, bending and propelling the body to guide them into daylight. 

They’ve been in here too long; it’s getting cramped.

When no perceivable cohesion is formed, still they come.

I pull up a blanket and cozy into the headboard which, today, serves as my desk chair, the pillow a most comfortable desk.

I stare blankly for what seems an hour. I am frozen in false expectations.

I’ve been told what people read, what is appropriate and what is fussy, what’s helpful and what’s self-serving.

Do you ever have those times that feel impossibly stagnant?

I mean, no matter how much effort you give or how much momentum you've gained you just can't seem to feel any progress inwardly? This is where I've found myself recently. Yeah, I'm just getting honest for a moment so hang in there with me.

My favorites from around the web.

I'm writing this roundup on a Saturday. In my pjs. Under a blanket. Because I CAN. Saturdays have long been sacred, in theory, for my little family of 4. But when 2 creative entrepreneurs and freelancers marry each other and have children, the resulting family life decidedly bleeds out from the boxes and schedules we desperately try and cram ourselves into.

The word “create” has a fascinating history. From ancient times, it was as if we humans had no adequate sounds in our vocabulary, no accurate colors in our artist palettes, no satisfactory tones in our stringed instruments to convey creativity as an incarnate expressive capability. Right up until The Enlightenment, “creation” was more or less an exclusive power of the gods.