Chipper

Ok, I'm going to say it: my art has no direction.

My name is Andrea Galvez and I have writer's block.

I wish there were 12 steps and then bam!

Clarity.

Open flow of awesomeness in the form of prose, but alas, I kid myself.

I'm sitting on my block and don't know how or where to begin to break it. It's awful, frustrating-as-hell feeling and I wish on no other writer but that, too, is wishful thinking. Sorry to any writers out there, but we're all doom (in one time or another).

We'll be going and the stories come bursting out of us, our hands, keyboards, and pens can't even keep up. It's a rush and a thrill to writing faster than your brain can process what you're writing. The story, then, is writing itself, and, us, writers, are merely vessels. We then finish, begin editing, and we're back to being writers and killing ourselves over every subject verb or syntax.

I'm no where near the editing stage; I would kill to be at the editing stage because that means I wrote something.

I've been debating taking a minor separation from Andrea, the writer. I think I've exhausted her and I think she's still moping about the MFA bust. Whether I like to openly admit it to myself, I know somewhere in my heart and in my ego: I'm butt-hurt. So in true immature fashion of being "butt-hurt," I'm refusing to allow any writing of worth come out. It's like a kidnapping and the ransom is recognition and well, that's ridiculous. The conscious me, the everyday Andrea, refuses to indulge in such pity. Is it weird that I'm currently dividing my "selves?"

Nah.

So, I want to focus on another art: photography.

And fencing.

The photography I've started on my own. I hope to in the near future sign up for a few classes: one of dark room techniques, the other of film camera work.

The fencing is drawing near as my bills are coming together in one consistent budget that I have managed and can execute in a timely manner. I'm hoping next month, after I save some cash for my future bed, and with the help of birthday money fencing will have one more fencer: me.

The day that happens I'm going to feel really awesome about myself. Andrea the writer, can suck it for bit in her emo state while Andrea, the fencer works to slowly become a badass-with a sword.

Where does the practicality of fencing come in? It doesn't. It's cool and I want to learn.

Learning, as you know, is very important to me right now.

Perhaps that's where my writing is missing me. I want to learn something completely new, and though each story is different and new, sitting in front of my computer doesn't appeal to me.

I think what I will do is actively seek out the outside, make sure I have my notebook, and write not on a keyboard and lighted screen, but rather scribble. Maybe after the formality of MFA applications and my portfolio, I need to let my writing's hair done.

Scribble.

Also, I won't be afraid of going to places alone. Alex works all day (bless his heart) and my friends are far, even the ones I had in high school are still just far enough to not be conveniently, and spontaneous-outing close. So just like my freshman year of college lunches and throughout the rest of my college lunches in four years, I will do it alone. And I'll learn something from it: me.

I know I sound like a bag of crap, but hey, this is my blog crap, when I get a more professional online site of some sorts, you won't read about all my self-discovery, we'll talk about food and travel :)

So I'm going to explore, probably get lost trying to explore, but I'm over the getting lost anxiety. If I have a decent amount of gas and battery power on my phone: I'm solid. I'll figure it out and learn.

New cities are no different than when I moved when I was young. It takes time to adjust and you hang out with yourself a lot. And though I was scared when I was younger, I won't let myself be now. Because for as much as I love being around people, I'm ok with just me and these crazy thoughts of mine.

Who knows, with this new loner plan, I can begin chipping away.

The block too.