I've been lurking for a while, and I've been trying to muster up the courage to write again. I used to do it constantly, a couple lifetimes ago. Somewhere along the line I decided I sucked and I quit. Then intermittently, I would pick up my pen and my angry notebook and try to write again and it was no good. In fact it was horrible. I thought it was lost forever.

I was in therapy a few years ago and discussing my former drug use and its effect on my then-current school performance. My therapist, Goddess-Tanya (she only went by Tanya, no other title), asked me if I would have jumped up from the hospital bed right after giving birth and expected myself to go run, complete, and win a 10 mile marathon.

"Think of your brain as a muscle" she told me. "If your ass is out of shape, if you spend years never flexing it, of course you will get hurt the first time you try to run a mile without at least stretching or warming up first. Why do you think you can quit a decade-long, up to 40 oz. daily pot habit and jump right into taking a full courseload and then some without getting headaches and requiring ten hours of sleep every night? If you want your body to perform well, you feed it nourishing food and get plenty of rest and exercise. And it still takes months, sometimes years to get your body to perform the way you want it to. If you feed your ass potato chips and sit on the couch all day, your ass will get fat. If you feed your brain pot and watch tv all day, your brain will get slow. It may take up to 7 years to clear the fog completely. Just try your best and get plenty of sleep. You did not "smoke yourself stupid". Your brain needs to exercise. That's all. Go forth and become educated! And don't do anymore drugs! They suck, and they are bad for you."

She was right on a lot of levels. The fog is clearing. My ass and my brain are slowly getting back into shape. The writing is coming back to me too. I used to be a writer/sculptor/musician but I dropped it all in favor of partying; and then motherhood. My soulmate has encouraged me to try sculpting again. He doesn't know yet that I want to write again, but he is one of the few people I used to share it with. A few years ago he mentioned it and I told him it was all crap. He disagreed. I told him it was all horrible, immature drivel. "Immature, yes! Drivel from my darling's pen, never! I loved your work then; it blew me away. I still love what you wrote back then. It is immature because you were a teenager when you wrote it. That doesn't mean it isn't good. You are a grownup now and will write grownup pieces if you really want to do it again" he said. "Grownup pieces of crap", I grumbled. But a seed was planted. I knew I wanted to do it, and I knew I had a wonderful person supporting my decision, if that's what I wanted to do.

I've run out of excuses, and I need to get my creative ass in gear! No more slacking, time to create! Some artists disappear to Tahiti on hiatus. I've been in TeleTubbie land, trying to find myself. I was right here all along, stuck under some loose bricks of Duplo and a few stray cheerios. So *that's* where I left my idealism!

Maybe I'll take on the music scene again in a few years, maybe not. Only time and therapy can tell.