his is a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time; it’s a hard feeling to describe. It’s like someone has put upon me a familiar and oddly comfortable heavy mantle and with that dense frame comes with it that old, familiar urge; that which has driven me for most of my life but has been of late long absent.

Of course, after such a protracted dry spell, I cling to anything that I can get, even the most brief inspiring urge. The fact that this old beast has been circling me again for the past few days is reassuring but it is not solid. I can look back through the most recent entries here and find at least one or two places where I thought I’d circled back around to the work and had even gone so far as to naïvely promise that more writing was forthcoming. It’s terribly embarrassing, actually, especially when you consider the previous entry which is still clearly unresolved and may never be. It’s too tough a subject to tackle both because of what it is and the fact that I simply don’t think that I have the skill to tackle it. I don’t know if I ever will but, most likely, the choice will ultimately not be mine: it will have to be written.

So, no more promises then. No optimism even. Just this for now: an acknowledgment that, at least for the moment, I feel inspired to write these few paragraphs. Maybe I will write a few more tomorrow.