The sky has been cloudy for what seems like a week, even though I know I spent just yesterday laying under the blue sky of the scorching sun. The open skies – it’s relationship to the timbre of my soul – seem so foreign under the current canopy of clouds. This is all temporary. This is just a moment in time…

It’s funny how moments can seem so powerful. “No Sense of Time” comes from a poem I once wrote about the power that these individual, mostly meaningless, moments in time. (Editor’s note: It also comes from the Dylan song “Stuck Inside of Mobile…” for those keeping track at home) It’s during these moments that one really has “no sense of time.” As the great World War II hero Jacques Lusseyran said, “Unhappiness comes to each of us because we think ourselves at the center of the world, because we have the miserable conviction that we alone suffer to the point of unbearable intensity. Unhappiness is always to feel oneself imprisoned in one’s own skin, in one’s own brain.”

Since I’ve moved to Boulder, I’ve come to terms with my brain. I have been extremely happy. Yet, I found a correlation to my lack of creative output. By flat lining my emotions and being happy, have I gave up my creativity? I want to believe that I haven’t. Yet, I struggle to even put words to paper, fingers to keyboard. I return now to the whole “journal-esque” blog to recapture some of that creativity – hopefully without the negative bent that it has taken in the past. I need to prove that happiness and creativity and not mutually exclusive. Hopefully, I can accomplish that.