- I want to blog about the Prodigal Son. How all of us need to leave our false ideas of 'Father' so that we can actually discover the truth of who he is. I want to write about the older son, how his misconceptions of 'Father' are also shattered when his brother comes home.
- I want to write about the Bernstein Mass, a piece of music I have been listening to a lot over this past weekend. How the climax when the Priest throws down the communion chalice and the monstrance, dances on the altar and rips the vestments has captured my attention. Of how faith is restored with a simple song of praise.
- I plan to write about 'Pillars of the Earth' the mini-series. Of how it differs from the book and of the tension it causes within me and how I'm trying to speculate abut why they made the changes.
- I should write about the surprise of making Manicotti, of improvising fillings for stuffed peppers, of attempting to merge two disparate recipes together and create something new.
- I intend to go through my boardgame shelves and make a blog post of the games that I hope will get to the table and be played again before the year is through. I need to start researching what games I hope to try at the Convention in November.
- I hope to write about the music I'm currently composing. Of trying different techniques in writing and arranging. In trying to find a new sound that is not just a repeat of what I have written before.
For some reason I have resistance to all of this. If somehow putting these topics down in words will somehow pin them like a butterfly pinned to a board. I'm not ready for them to be fixed yet, my ideas are still flitting around, fluttering through my head...
...and in the meantime my blog stands quietly waiting, longing for an entry. I fill it with snippets, an media clip here, a quote there, a quick picture, all things that capture my interest, but nothing that is indicative of who I am at a deep level. I'm ok with this most days, I've not had complaints of my lack of blogging, it's not like I am hounded by readers desperate to hang on my every word.
I have written, and I will write, but for now I'm ok sitting with all that is going on, with no need to lock it into place with words.