Tuesday, November 9, 2010

An Electric Energy

At the top of this page, you should see the words :

The Blog Life of Lady Blackwood

AN ELECTRIC ENERGY
Every Story, True.
Every Emotion, Felt.
Welcome to my World.
I'm the Liberated Lady.




While most of that is pretty self-explanatory, there are two lines that may not make perfect sense to everyone out there. The first one I will explain is the last line you will read.

I'm the Liberated Lady.

When I first took on this project, those words were not up on the top of the page. In fact, the only words that originally lined the top of the page is the actual Blog title, something about Lady Blackwood, yadda yadda.

Writing has become my savior. It's been the constant motivation for me to keep going. It's become a desire and need in me. I MUST finish this project, I say to myself each time I feel like giving up on something. Sometimes I'm amazed that I still have so many stories to tell with so many already having been written. Still, my life abounds with the fantastic, scary, heart warming and gut wrenching stories I continue to share with the world.

I was a walking book, wandering the streets and failing to find anyone who wanted to hear my amazing stories, or my simple tales, or even my pleasant thoughts. I had written and completed an entire book in only a year and a half. It was 850 pages, hand written and had so much of my heart and soul poured into it that when it was stolen (along with everything else in the Uhaul in July 2009) I swore I'd never do that again. I didn't know what I was swearing to.

I had put my life down in pages, written in Calligraphy and felt to the very core of my being. Mementos lined the pages, like a napkin, a hand written note or a birthday card. Each word was painstakingly intense. Here and there, the pages were warped slightly from where my tears had landed and dried. I spent countless hours writing my memories and stories, my gains and losses, my triumphs and failures in daily life. A piece of me was destroyed as I thought to myself about those three leather bound journals I had planned to someday publish being thrown onto a bonfire somewhere outside of Las Vegas city. At the time I never wanted to write again. Now I can barely think of anything else.

While it was wonderful writing that book and knowing that I had completed that task, it never meant as much to me as this blog does. Some of my posts are things I've stolen from my own past and reprinted here, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold much significance to me when I posted them. What I've come to realize is that nobody will ever read that book I wrote. Even I didn't read it from start to finish even once. I would write in the pages, read what I had just written, and close the book for the day. Nobody will ever know what those pages contained. Unfortunately, not even I can remember.

This blog is different. This has become not only a creative outlet for me, but it's a lot better than having to carry around a thick, heavy leather bound journal everywhere I go. I have access to it anytime I am near a computer - and when a person is in Los Angeles, when are we not near a computer? I can write at my leisure. I can point to other stories I told as a reference point to the story I'm currently telling. What's more, I can share what I have to say with the world this time, not just myself.

Some people call me brave for posting my life the way I do. Others call me stupid for sharing everything I've been through. Still others just think I'm silly. I'm not forcing those people to read my blogs though, and what it all boils down to is that my statistics show that my readers are growing by leaps and bounds. Even the people who think I'm silly for trying are reading my stories every day. I may not be brave for doing it. In fact, I lean more towards those who say it's stupid and dangerous. Still, I'm compelled to do it, like it's my form of Tourettes.

So there you have it. I have been liberated by my own desire to write, to be understood and to be finally heard for everything I have to say. I truly am the Liberated Lady.


The other line people may not fully understand is simple... An Electric Energy.

Someone I once loved very much once told me that I was full of an electric energy. I drew people to me like a moth to a flame. They wanted to know who I was, what I was about. People would once walk across a room and talk to the person standing next to me about the weather, just hoping for an introduction to me. Others would just introduce themselves to me right off the bat.

These days that doesn't happen anymore, but I still hope to inspire that spark in others, to show people that everyone out there has a story to tell, if we're all just a little more willing to slow down and listen. I didn't always know that myself until I became a self-proclaimed writer. This blog has in many ways changed me. It's been my driving force to get me through some of the hardest moments of the past brutal year. It's been my way of sharing great news and wonderful adventures with everyone. It's been my way of connecting with old friends, finding new ones, and loosing the ones I never needed in the first place.

Welcome to my world. I am the Liberated Lady.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Your comments will need to be moderated before posted, thank you.

Family Monsters

Familial Trafficking survivors are trafficked within their own homes and communities by those who should be there to care, love, and protect...