As of yet, there is none.

     I don't know what finally brought me to it. Maybe it was the sentimental film girl-a-thon I did last night while my mate immersed himself in his latest pc online adventure. Maybe it was the misty, chilly, drive today through the rural Ozarks that reminded me of that Bronte-Austen countryside. More likely it has to do with my typically maudlin state of mind that I both love and lament in varying degrees. Over the last several years and for no conscious reason, I've created a habit of silence. ...This blog should have a professional purpose. This writing should have a goal to educate. I should keep a focus in mind with every submission. This projection should be limited to lighthearted witticisms and hold the rest private... My need to compartmentalize my expression is an excuse, really. One more way to shove my thoughts back down in punishment for their not being judged as practical or purposeful by a strict and abusive ego. What a crock! And what's worse is that I know better! I've been methodically training myself to be the opposite of everything bohemian I've always believed in. How dare I give my eldest son a lecture about how it's wrong to only define a person's creativity in terms of what, and how well, they've expressed it! I seem to masochistically deny myself the experience of artistic release. So, this is my first attempt at unlocking my voice again. I'll coax it out softly and try to allow the deluge. I'll continually coach myself that there are no limits, that no thoughts are invalid, and that truthfully they don't have to even make sense. 

     I'm currently on a journey of genuine Self-discovery in which I hope to not only realize my purpose in this life but to transform my identity from abandoned and unloved to unabashedly Self-loved. This is my world to pause in, ponder, and profess from whatever perspective I choose. I needs be silent no more.