“…and I said, ‘John it ain’t worth it, nothing’s going right and I’m feeling half dead and haven’t written a poem in ages and I’m ready to quit it all,’ and John said, ‘shit young feller, you ain’t got started yet and the reason’s cause you trying to do it outside yourself and ain’t looking in and if you wanna by god write pomes you gotta write pomes about what you know and not about the rest and you can write about pigs and that boar and Jan and you and me and the rest and there ain’t no way you’re gonna quit.'”
—from “Loading A Boar” by David Lee
What is it that you haven’t done in ages? What is it that nourishes you beyond food and that you are starved to have?
Maybe it’s painting. Or building something out of wood. Or playing that musical instrument. Or having a deep, connected conversation.
Whatever art you hunger to create—whatever is your equivalent of writing a “pome”—if you really want it, maybe the starting point is right in front of you.
Because maybe the point isn’t to impress.
So paint, carve, sing, or write about those pigs. And that boar.
And do it in your voice. The one that only you have.
Because it matters. It’s the only way you won’t end up feeling half dead, even if nothing else in your life is going well.