The Screaming Bridge

I had a really long conversation with a friend tonight. He made me cry over the image of a solitary green mitten in the snowy sunset. It's okay if you don't understand; mittens shouldn't make people cry, I know this. He inspired me to write the images I see, rather than trying to force them into a story. It was basically exactly what I needed to hear.

Because I've stopped writing. I'm sorry; I'm a delinquent blogger. But for some time, I've just felt uninspired, and really pressured by myself to write about every call and every word.

That's not a fair expectation for me to have of myself. I should seriously stop that.

So I promise you this: when I feel inspired to write, I will write. And when nothing is coming to me, I won't try to muddle through flat words to bring you inspired thoughts.

And eventually, I'll tell you about the screaming bridge.

Take care out there,


Anonymous said...

don't worry, just write when you feel like it - we won't be going anywhere!

Evil Transport Lady said...


Lodo Grdzak said...

Sometimes you've gotta let the writing come to you rather than stalking it.

Anonymous said...

You said similar things earlier in the year...

A lot of days has passed since I have had the mental capacity to comment. It is perfectly okay that you are not able to write at this time. All great writers have those times of not being able to write. I can see how a green mitten in a snowy sunset can make you or anyone else cry or tear up. It can be a metaphor sometimes of what is going on in our lives. The most beautiful images that we see are the ones that allows us to self-reflect the most. It doesn't have to make sense to someone else -- in a way, it should not make sense to another, just to ourselves.

Samantha, I hope that you will write again...and yes, I hope that you will tell us about the screaming bridge. Blessed be.

"To breathe in the son of my father, and to lay in my mother's arms."

Anonymous said...

Oh, instead of "son", it should be "sun"...but you knew that already.