So.  If you look back at some of my posts, you may notice a pattern.  Stop.  Start.  Stop.  Start.  Big gaps of nothingness.  No writing.  Radio Silence.

If you were to look at my notebooks and journals (of which I have a LOT) you would notice a similar pattern.  I start things, and I fizzle out.  I don’t finish.

I have been working on this issue of mine more diligently throughout the last year, through therapy and other venues.  I feel like I have made progress, but I know I still struggle with carving out time in my day for things that are important to me – like writing.

I’m not big on new year’s resolutions, but there is something about January that does give you that extra dose of inspiration.  My father bought me a website a few months ago after we talked and I expressed an interest to start putting my writing out there more.  He has spent many hours with me, both on the phone and in person, helping me to set this up in a way that is going to work for me in a more permanent fashion with the (hopefully) potential for growth in terms of audience. (Thanks, Dad!)  And so, theunexpressed.com was born.

I have started to blog a couple of times now, always trying to have a focus and a purpose.  I don’t think that’s working for me, because I box myself in.  The truth is, I don’t know what you will read here when you come to visit my site – if you come.  You might read me talking about the mundane details of life, or my latest Oscar movie.  You might find poetry, or snippets of stories and narratives, or writing of any kind really – in all stages of the process.  I might talk about my students and my life as a teacher, or my experience as a human being in this world, in this time.  I just don’t know yet.

My purpose is to develop a habit of expression.  It’s important to me.  I love doing it.  I want to find my voice and purpose, and move towards publishing my work at some point.  This is one tiny step.

This afternoon, as my blissfully long school vacation was coming to a close, I finished setting up a writing space in our spare room.  I have a small desk that overlooks the road.  My mom found me a Smith Corona typewriter from the 50’s when I expressed an interest in finding a way to use them with my students.  (Thanks, Mom!) I haven’t brought it into my classroom yet, but it seems to fit in nicely on my desk upstairs.  I sat there, with ink all over my fingers from changing the ribbon and figuring out how to work the darn thing, and blasted out a couple of quick writes on it.  I have been reading Ernest Hemingway, so he and his legacy have been on my mind this weekend.  I will include pictures of each of the pages, even though they may be hard to read.

I think sharing them is a good step to get me over the stumbling blocks that have prevented me from sharing my writing in the past in a venue like this.  I await perfection, and revision, and editing.  I don’t want to wait for perfection anymore.

What you see is what I wrote in that moment, in that setting, and it is enough.

Here’s to hopefully overcoming the title of my blog.