Hydrangeas are some of my favorite flowers. They remind me of home. There we had giant white puffball hydrangeas... it seems that all my life I've wanted to grow colored ones, but the soil in Iowa isn't acidic enough. Now that we're in Texas, where colored hydrangeas thrive, the first thing I did this spring was go to the greenhouse and buy some to plant. Depending on the soil, the variety I chose could be blue or pink. I'd be happy with either, but I'm even happier to say they seem to be a shade in between... blue with a hint of lavendar. Lovely.
I feel like I've been distant lately. I've been suffering from writer's block, I guess. I'm so thrilled to have so many new followers, but feel like I've been letting you all down by not having inspiring and fun things to write about. That's life for you!
Actually, I've been feeling utterly uncreative.
I recently read a letter written by author Ursula LeGuin:
The creative adult is the child who survived.
The creative adult is the child who survived after the world tried killing them, making them “grown up”. The creative adult is the child who survived the blandness of schooling, the unhelpful words of bad teachers, and the nay-saying ways of the world.
The creative adult is in essence simply that, a child.
I do like this idea and I used to feel like this was me. Lately, I'm not so sure. Maybe need a shot of youthfulness and fun. All I know is that adulthood and responsibilities are not very conducive to a creative life.
Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I'm wrong. Just need to find the balance.