I'm saying a kind of good-bye, again. Always again. I'm not going far and I'll be checking in the last day of each month to keep myself honest and on itinerary. But I'm taking a kind of sabbatical from writing here so that I can write behind closed doors for a while. No matter how many times I decide I can't both write and live my life. No matter how many times I decide it's a waste of time. No matter what, I keep finding ways to keep writing. Now I want to bring all those ways of writing into one way. And as much as the ImagiBicy has been a useful vehicle, there are roads it can't take me on, things I can't write about here so out in the open.
I hope I can face my fear of fire. But I've been reading that old poet-prophet Isaiah and he's told me there's a way to dwell with the fire, to get it to light my view of the far-off land. And my friend Stobrod has reminded me it may be worthwhile to go at every story as if all within earshot had been recently set afire.
I've been carrying water to put out fires long enough.
The logical way to do things now is get to chopping wood.