Free Life

What is life? Much of my blog is devoted to that issue. What is the point of it all? 

How do we, as creatives, as humans, find our bliss, and our purpose? 

For much of my life, I spent it searching, working and trying to reach certain goals. My early to mid twenties was spent surviving. My late twenties to my mid thirties was spent striving. 

I got a Bachelor's degree, then a law degree, and then a corporate law firm job. I had "made it" by many's standards. 

Not really because as a man once wrote and sang and I'm paraphrasing here, I was looking for a job, and I found a job, and the result was misery. 

When I became a deputy public defender, it also sustained me for a bit. It was creative but not enough. When I searched my soul, I knew something was still lacking. 

It wasn't until I started writing again, that a fire lit in my brain and soul. Something sparked. Writing lit a blaze that couldn't be put out. To this day, it rages. The writing bug is in me for good.

What was missing you see, was art and I knew, for at least the last decade or more, that I was meant to be a writer. My memoir writing was my bliss and I was meant to finish my book. 

Like most writers, I doubted for a bit that it would come to fruition, but then the universe conspired to help, along with virtualization and my hard work  And so I finished not only one book, but two. It was magic in a way, that's a good way to describe it. Or here's another way, it was a journey that took years and years. 

So maybe it wasn't magic, or maybe it was my own conjuring. Who really knows?

Now the question is, where do I go from here? Don't get me wrong, it's a relief to have two books in the world, my chapbook about public defense and my memoir/YA novel. Such a damn relief. 

Yet I know I'm not done. I don't know many things, but I know that. 

I'm not done.