I’m debating whether or not I should go to tomorrow’s Hypergraphic’s meeting.
Since the last meeting (the last, cheese-less meeting) I have not written a damn word. Not a word. I had time off to spare, I was home. Granted, a great deal of time was spent taking apart the old desk, moving all my books and files around, building the new desk, moving all the books and files back. I meant, meant, useless word meant, to finally type in all the longhand words I’d written before the last meeting, that I started typing in at the last meeting.
It doesn’t help that I felt a little ambushed at the last meeting. The exercise that meeting was to write something inspired by the artwork newly hung at the cheese shop. Much of the work on display was expressionist, often a single color stretched through a series of hues. A trio were fluid, impressionist water lilies. One large one had a blue background, silver arcs, and then a red tide rising up and covering half the canvas. Interesting, but save the last none really struck a story spark in my head. Normally I wouldn’t care, I would just write something and not worry about it. But the purpose of the exercise, we were also told, was that the following week we’d share what we’d written to the artist herself at, I think, the next meeting.
Which, I’m sorry, is not what I want to do.
I like the exercises, they are muscle-stretching, limbering things. Something to do at the meeting and, if something interesting pops in, raw material for something else. I never have a completed piece at the end of one of our sessions. And to work on it between then and the next meeting? No. That’s not what I’m here for. I can barely kick my own ass to keep up steady work on my own projects.
This may be a bit of my grumpiness from the whole diet and tests spilling over. Maybe also grumpiness directed at myself for not having written, for letting April slip completely out of my control. I had decided, days ago, not to go to the Hypergraphics meeting. Todd will be out of town and the dog alone all day and I was feeling decidedly un-Hypergraphic. But there will be others who, if they show, will not have a piece to share because they were not there last meeting.
Haven’t seen any posting about tomorrow’s meeting, either. Normally there is a note in there by now on the Facebook group for us to confirm as attending or not attending but so far, nothing. Strange. But I will go, if just for a little while. Hopefully I won’t be walking into an empty cheese shop after all.
In the meantime, I need to re-orient my ship. May 1st. May Day. Beltane. Tomorrow I light a candle, tap into my pagan roots and re-attune to the creative, fearless spirit that wrote with abandon, just to discover the words I did not know I needed to write. I’ve had my April showers, and now it’s time for my May flowers.