In the midst of my most fulfilling experience, Eric, I have realized that I am missing out on some other fulfilling experiences that I once held my heart inside of: namely... writing. So the blog will return, hopefully, much more frequently than it has been around as of late.
We've been doing a lot of graphic design. A LOT. Samples:
http://www.magiicmike.com
http://www.ephalo.com/complete_site
There is a bit of time that I miss... that time when I was in Vancouver. I would come home from my twelve hour days of work and sit at my computer. IM Vicki. Email Micah. Call Lauren. But now, I don't have that time. I come home to Eric and we feel ourselves in love and we work hard on graphic design and we laugh and play and love... but there is no reflection time. There is no time for letters and words and moments of quiet concentration. I want that back. Eric does, too. He looked wistfully at his guitar last night while we finished up some Dreamweaver stuff.
I haven't played my guitar in a long time, he said.
Me either, I thought. I touched the pen inside my palm and rolled it over a couple times. I gotta start writing again, I realized.
Not poetry. Not emails. Not blogs. WRITING WRITING. Stories about trips to the zoo and too-short pant legs and what it means that my cousin Matt was hit by a car and killed two weeks ago and why I can't get my brain or heart to wrap around the reality of that. How my family's face looks every morning, inside every phone call how their voice is cracked... how silent it is at night, how echoingly silent it is.
And then I realized it, too. There are more things in this world to write about than love. There are more things in this world to write about than J and his effect on my heart... the pain of college community... the ache for love.
There are more things in this world to write about and I am able to see them now, because my road-weary heart is full of the One and I don't have to worry about love anymore because I am overflowing... so I can see the importance of other immense things: the shortness of life. The beauty of my family's love. The emptiness of the world and the fullness of our hearts.
There is much to write about, and I have to make time for it.
