I love to write.
Like, the kind of love that puts you at ease and reminds you who you are. Give me some melancholy alternative music, a coffee, a warm sweater, and my computer and I’m in my happiest of happy places. Add in a rainy day and a seat by the window and I might just cry tears of joy.
I think writing is an interesting art form in that, at least for me, the ability to create has little to do with my feelings toward writing itself and so much to do with everything else going on in my life.
When I’m happy I want to share it, so I rush off to do so the best way I know how: writing. And when I’m upset I want to get it all out and make sense of the situation, so I crave a writing session. But anything in between, which let’s be honest is a large majority of the time, it’s hard to find the words. The inspiration doesn’t consume me, either in a wave of joy or the gripping pain of sadness or frustration, so the words don’t flow as easily. Instead it feels like pulling, tugging, begging and pleading for a moment, just a glimpse, of creativity. During those times, when the words fail me, writing becomes an almost painful process. The thing I love isn’t fun. It’s something I must begrudgingly and dutifully do.
Hence, my poor blog’s bouts of loneliness. I’m either lacking that craving and hunger for writing, or I use my free time to put my brain to sleep (aka watch crappy TV).
But I realized the other day that if I wait for those times of extreme emotion I limit my opportunities to grow as a writer. Yes, writing when I’m in an apathetic state of mind means that half of what is left on the page may be worthless, but at least I put something on the page. At least I made an attempt and pushed past the drudgery. And the beauty of a blog is that you’re not required to hit “publish” at the end of each post. Then, on the other hand, who knows? I could end up creating some brilliant things in that lukewarm space.
So, all that being said, expect to see more consistent content here. My goal is at least once a week. Now that doesn’t mean I’ll always hit my goal. And it doesn’t mean that everything is going to be polished, compelling literary work. It may just end up being Kiara’s Stream of Consciousness some days (that’s kinda what this is turning into if we’re being honest), but hey! I always said My Beautiful Mess was going to be me being real and honest. So here you go. My thoughts, raw and uncut.
In the meantime, you get a front row seat to me dusting off my writing skills and honing them a bit more. I’d really love your comments and feedback. I know all writers say that, but for reals. If you don’t feel comfortable writing them below please shoot me a message. I want to grow, and knowing what’s working and what isn’t is a vital part of that. Be kind, but be honest. You know how baristas say tips are appreciated? Well this writer is saying the same. Tips are always appreciated: I take comments, check, or PayPal.