You may have noticed less blogging in the past few days. I've been taking it easy, reading WALKING THE PERFECT SQUARE by Reed Farrel Coleman, doing not much of anything else. I do have the urge to write poems, which would be a bonus before the end of the month.
Looking back, I'm amazed how much time let pass without a poem, story, or something else written. I do regret my "do-nothing" younger days, but I'm not in a panicked catch-up mode. As with any exercise, overdoing it is ultimately unheathy. I've worked up to the best writing shape of my life, and I have to keep a steady pace to stay that way. If I go too long without writing, I start to feel sluggish. And after feeling in top form, feeling sluggish is no fun.
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