It’s 5:30 am. It’s still dark out. For no reason in particular, I’ve been up since 3:30. Unable to fall back asleep, I scrolled whatever it is that I scroll on my phone for an hour. Unable to fall back asleep, I got up. I turned on the dim overhead light. I sat at the computer and read the headlines. I re-read some of the things I’ve written here these past few days. First breakfast is a packet of instant oatmeal and some coffee. I may have a second breakfast when some restaurants open up. I feel like I should have a breakfast taco.
Yesterday, after fighting off my indecisiveness, I took a long walk (6 or 7 miles). I went to Barton Springs and back. I followed a hike & bike trail for most of the walk and returned through the city along 6th St. where a lot of the bars and music venues are located. It was soupy and warm. I felt clammy and a little disgusting when I was done. Last night, even though I didn’t want to walk any more (sore and chaffed from the heat), I walked another mile and a half out to a music venue that has a blues jam on Tuesdays. They didn’t have the blues jam last night.
For a few days, I’ve wanted to write (creative writing), but haven’t known how to begin. It would have been a good thing to do at 3:30 in the morning when I couldn’t sleep. The “cottage” in which I’m staying would be a good writer’s retreat. There are animals in the yard (at least two goats and tortoise) and wooden porches and rustic charm. The light in my room is dim and white. The walls are dark. It’s small and sparsely furnished. There’s a hot plate, a coffee maker, and a microwave, but only one can be used at a time or the breaker in the power strip trips. I think it would take several days of not being a tourist to settle in and do some writing. I think I’d need to get rid of the cell phone in order to do some writing. I thought I’d find more time for creativity on this trip. I haven’t.
Not knowing where to begin (writer’s block) is, for me, the result of self-doubt (I have nothing worth saying or have no subject) coupled with insufficient practice. I find practice (the daily or frequent kind) to be a way of breaking through and breaking down those barriers to subject and worthiness. And just like exercise, it’s easy to get out of practice and really hard to restart. I’m out of practice.