I've been 'gunna' write a post for over a week now.
Sorta tried. Sorta didn't.
Despite having a shiny new laptop.
Despite being in a whole new world.
Despite wasting so many empty hours that Level 100 of both Bubble Witch and Panda Pop are both well within sight.
And when I look at my 'reasons', I find myself not just back on The Rock but right back in my youth. Back in my insecurities, back in my need to please, stuck in the back of my own mind.
Having people read my posts brings me happiness. It keeps me connected, reminds me of what I value and, I guess, helps me feel I have worth. Or perhaps worth is not quite the right word. Maybe a more accurate way to express this is to say that having people read what I write helps me to feel that I have a point. That there is some sort of point to me.
To my being.
To my being at all.
|Domed roof of the ancient cold store at Kew Gardens|
Before we left The Rock, I was full of ideas about what might inspire my blog posts: objects in museums; shows, exhibitions and plays; restaurants, cafes and shops; architecture, gardens and people-watching. I even thought I might call the whole blog Wendy OFF the Rock while I am here on the other side of the globe.
But then I got stuck.
After a mere four posts from London, I became bogged.
And what was the mind-cement?
'Are you going to write a funny one again this week? They're the best.''I especially enjoyed your post about the lights... it made me laugh.''I always read right to the end of the humorous ones.'
I got stuck in my need to please.
I paralysed myself with the desire for approval.
Nothing funny about that.
So here for your enjoyment...
are some of the things I haven't written about:
|The walk home from Marks & Sparks food hall|
|Celadon bowls that survived a shipwreck in the year 1100|
|Inside the Apollo Theatre|
|Bulgogi tacos at Jin Juu|
I think I'm unstuck now.