It took me a long time to figure out what I was going to write about today. I just couldn't figure out what to say. Did I really have anything to say?
What I decided on came to me as I sat here at my old desk, a desk my wife found for me on Craigslist. It's from the 1930's. Solid wood, chipped and scarred. One of the drawers has the remains of an old card still glued to the handle, both card and glue now deeply yellowed. The spidery writing on the card, barely visible, says simply, "Red Sox Yearbooks". There's some other writing below that, but I can't make it out. I think it says "1952".
This desk has had a journey, and that's a fact.
Just like most writers. We are in the midst of a journey. That's really what, for me, writing is all about: the journey.
Case in point: back on Friday, I signed my first book contract. A surreal moment for me, as I'd been working to get here for a very, very long time. Many, many years. A HELLUVA lot of sacrafice. I signed in blue pen, as I'd heard that's what you're supposed to do with contracts. I figure one of those copies will be returned me after being countersigned. I'm going to put the front sheet in a frame and put it up on my wall. It'll be one of the "road signs" along the way.
I've finally approached a turning point in my career. Definitely the ending of one phase, and the beginning of the next.
Why am I talking about this? Well, on my bedside table is a copy of Joseph Campbell's "The Hero With a Thousand Faces." I haven't read it in years, not since I started writing back in like 1997. The book got me thinking again about Joseph Campbell in general, and how brilliant and awakened he was. I think one of my most favorite quotes by him is this one: "Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls."
That is SO true. It's happened for me.
I had realized, back in my early twenties, that I was just not going to make a lot of money at some day job/career sort of thing. That just wasn't me. I wanted to learn to play blues guitar and play in clubs all over this country and overseas. That didn't work out, BUT that led me to painting. (I DO still play blues guitar everyday though, lol. Love it LOUD!) I painted for ten years, selling some of my work, but then one day I realized I'd hit a wall. I didn't know how to paint through it, but through THAT incident I got the bug to write.