Picking up where I left off has never been my forte, if only because the grammatical confusion of the phrase "picking up where I left off" has been know to trigger my motion sickness and WHAM, just like that, I've forgotten where I was to begin with. It's a tragedy of the highest order.

But, if I were to try, I suppose I could tell you about how I took an “unofficial” sabbatical from writing this past year, as I decided that I needed to actually live within the mess of my life rather than just observe it. I could also talk about how I was tired of feeling sad, and writing about feeling sad, and then still feeling sad. I could describe to you the other things I did instead- the work stuff, the falling-in-love stuff, the seeing-new-places stuff and learning-new-stuff stuff. I could share stories about the new people I’ve met and the old people I’ve met again.  I could tell you how I gave myself a good pat on the back for having rallied strong against the withdrawal of it all- for not having typed a single word for an entire year. And I could tell you what a good season it's been, rich and adventurous and rewarding, now that I've kicked that wonderful writing habit to the curb.

But I’ll spare you the details.

Instead, I’ll tell you this: I miss it. I miss the sharing and I miss the act of throwing out words into the world in order to see what sticks. I miss having a place, a plot even, to cultivate and to share with the people I love. I miss the possibility and the potential. And, just as I predicted I might, I feel rusty and emptied out and ready to rejoin the rhythm of words + creativity + community.  

Addiction at its finest, indeed. 

I’m hopeful that this new, quiet space will provide room for all of us addicts can gather round and commiserate about how wonderful and terrible and completely rapturous life really is. I'm excited to throw around some words and occasional photographs, just to see what happens. And while I know all of our days are blurry and filled to the brim, I'm committed to pulling up a chair, so to speak, and putting thoughts to paper. Read, if you'd like. Share, if you'd like. Even better, say hello and pull up your own chair if you'd like. And just in case I forget to mention it later, thanks for sticking around and keeping me company.