writing

I'm writing. 

Nothing special and that's the key. It doesn't require as much perfection as building a house. It's as if you could toss a bunch of stones down, shove some 2 x 4s in there, slap on some drywall and a roof. Then step back and say, whoa, that ain't right. Use your giant hands and arms to move, remove and adjust where needed.

Maybe one of the rooms is exquisite. You might be able to saw that jewel out, let it hang in the air, then stitch it back in.

My point here really is for me. Let's face it. By production alone, I am no writer. By temperament, probably. Enough have agreed where it's not completely insane to think so. My problem has been that I've tried to fabricate an architectural masterwork each time as if there were 10,000 pieces that fit together in this linear, 1 to 10,000 numbering system.

But I didn't have any kit, no numbering system and no idea of what I wanted. That's okay but I didn't adjust my expectations. The honest evaluation process is where I've fallen apart. I don't have the kind of orientation to see outcome and how to get there. 

I am a hive. Each member contributes. The colony forms over time, correctly, mistakes discarded or shaved away. How do I trust that the flurry of activity will lead to structure and meaning.

Not my call. Just do my many small jobs. Something will form.