Sometimes

Sometimes I forget how satisfying it is to do my own work, express myself in my own way, simply be me.

Unfettered by fear or feelings of inadequacy, it leaves me feeling like a child again. Ready to write scary stories in haunted mansions. Eager to draw pictures with words.

Sometimes I want to just take globs of words and splatter them all over the page; creating a poem or picture of Pollock-ish proportions and not care what the world thinks.

And sometimes I like to be careful, to tat tiny delicate phrases that are out of date and long over due.