context

I have recently - and only within myself - felt challenged to write. Every day.
In my being, writing is fundamental, and I very often ignore it. I'm a poser. I shouldn't call myself a writer. And, maybe I'm not... but that's really for me to decide. Anyway, I wax philisophical when I consider reconnecting with the Essential Sarah... music, urban living, physical being, feminism, environmentalism, sprituality. That all gets tidily packaged within my writing, but I turn my back on it; I have more important things to do than be true to myself.

I have a long-term blog, which I generally enjoy maintaining, though it comes in fits and starts. I'm abstract-random. I lack discipline. I must train myself to express thoughts and observations in words, to honor my writer self, to get myself there (there being sustaining myself in writing).

The context for terminally wanderlust is that of my life and that of my writing... I search, I long, I am unsatisfied, I lack contentment and I do not want to settle. I wouldn't change that. But a terminally wanderlust mind and soul need an outlet, too... and I want that outlet to be writing. Every day, disciplined, committed writing.

I commit to a discipline of writing here... real writing... every day. I will edit the old; I will create new. This is a nursery of ideas, a laboratory for critique, a respite for the wanderlust.
Such is the context. It begins.