once again, there are stories I want to get to, things I want to write. I'm carving out space again, making new habits, reminding myself why having it here (as archive) is important to me.
yet I wait till late. and then feel tired and worn down and unable to say much of anything.
except this: I am writing.
and I will keep writing. keep showing up. day after day this year.
the stories can't be told all at once.
art can't be made in one go. it comes when it comes, when it's moment arrives.
this is why I show up, this is why I make daily practice a priority (even more this year).
day by day, moment by moment.