the autumn funks

Sometimes I wonder why I write so much of myself down here. Do I really think myself to be so exciting? Not really. It's cathartic, at times. To send everything out there. I don't really think many people care, or read. But in ways just the writing it down helps.

I used to keep a journal. For years, starting at twelve. Every page another boy's name of the month, my adorations poured out into kitty cat pages. Sad I destroyed my last, teenage journal in a fit of feeling discovered. Then years where I didn't, random thoughts jotted onto scraps thrown in bags, at times refound and stashed alongside other years. One day when I look back...

I started again a few years ago. It seems when working through things, when thoughts collide banging around the clock, the writing pours and figures everything out. I ponder in words. I can't see all the angles and think silently through it all. I often find talking distracting, other people's opinions don't help and sometimes have no one to share with. You could either see I'm self-involved or introspective.. It's just me.

In the last few years I've become very happy being me. Very content. I created a life that I love, my house my things, a love and a family. So many positive things come together and my life is quite fantastic. In ways I couldn't have imagined when I was fifteen.

Piles of positive, happy moments. And still there are times when things just don't sit right. They seem off, the world colored, weighted with negativity. Discomfort. There isn't really a reason that you can discern and you know the good things are still there. And still...

These thoughts pile on and I know it's the time of year where everything is dampened, slowing down for the hibernation. Nothing seems so terrible that I need to start medicating, officially... It's funny how those of you who have been there understand easily and others won't see how.

So I'm journaling again. Writing furiously into evenings, ideas stamped on every page. Rereading, analyzing and organizing my thoughts and life. That's why I write here, although I really expect no one to care. Some days I have to write it down. Sometimes typing is faster than handwriting! I need to.

It's autumn. Gorgeous, hot sunny autumn. But the days are shorter, heavier fall meals began, tuques and layers, sweaters... I love them but they make me sad. These Roving Eyes put up a fall playlist on his blog *dripping with sadness or strings or both*. Already two of my heavy rotation of Sia and Owen Pallet are on the downloadable list along with some new favorites. I moving forwards, sluggishly some days but continuing to slog through towards better days.

* * Started work on the photo exhibit of nursing moms.
* * Piano concert preparations are coming along. Some days I think I sound great while others bring disappointment. Still lots of time to perfect.

It's busy. I start the spareboard in a couple days and trying to make arrangements so when the tenant moves out end of month we can take over the upstairs room. And still make money. Respite?