love long lost, soon to be regained

i miss my art.

miss it bad.

like a dear old friend has left, never to return again.

my passion is to throw myself into the obsession of the moment.

all in.

that's been me always.

i find something of interest.  the interest grows.  i obsess.  i research, read and suck the marrow out of it and then i move on.

was that my art?  was art so involved that it took from adolescence to adulthood to suck the marrow out?

i hope that's not true.

i think the obsession of my children has consumed me and will likely not let up.  ever.  no marrow to suck out.  no end.  a never-ending obsession.  full of pleasure.

i think i must make room for art in my now busy life.

i feel something missing.

i feel it's my art.

i feel a need for release.

i feel a need for creation.

...

...and it's coming.  soon.  with fervor and force.  an explosion of ignored creativity suddenly released.

i feel it roiling under the surface.  the creativity is there.

it's time to create...

if i could only find the time.