The picture above was taken in South Alabama last summer, on the side of the road. This is one of my favorite pictures, not because it is very impressive in the way of amateur photography, but because the morning I took it, I got to spend the day doing one of my very favorite things, riding around with my husband way down south, listening to the radio, and taking pictures to bring back home with me to remind me of a perfect day. I get all these thoughts in my head about harvesting happy whenever I think about this, but I should probably try and focus on my original reason for posting.
I started writing this post over a month ago before I abandoned and left it for dead. When I woke up this morning, face down, body in a giant x-shape on the mattress, I had exactly 2 thoughts. 1) Oww–my face. 2) I think I wrote myself into a corner again.
In case you’ve never heard the idiom I’ve painted myself into a corner, it pretty much means to do something that takes away all your other choices or to put yourself in a sticky situation, limiting the way you can act from that point forward. As far as painting myself into a creative corner, well, I’ve done it before and I’ve done it again (cue the ellipsis overuse and abuse)…
To the best of my understanding, this happens more than not whenever I’m thinking too much about the way other people will react to my creation and I let that, or the FEAR of possible ridicule prevent me from telling the story I truly want to tell. I set out troubleshooting, trying to follow all the steps they tell us to follow, clear out clichés blah blah blah blah, and so on. Honestly, I can’t even bring myself to form a proper list at this point, because I’m too mentally exhausted to bother. That should say a lot.
Because this trouble always seems to find me (or do I find it) and yes it is TROUBLE in none-other-than shouty caps, for sure, this post shall serve as a reminder to myself. You are not telling his or her story. If ‘they’ read it and don’t like it, so what? Let them tell their own story, if ‘they’ feel so compelled. You are telling YOUR story. For Pete’s sake, tell it.