The low tide is silent. No waves, no lapping against the shore, no rush of salt water, just quietness.
The only movement comes from the hop of a blackbird as I draw near.
A heron feeds, serenely.
And another waterbird paddles along at a contented space. From the air above, a kingfisher calls.
Dear readers, my creative energy has ebbed as I’ve dealt with one drama after another, from computer breakdown to a publisher denying permission to use some important material (and informing me by snail mail, after the manuscript has been sent off). At times it’s felt like death by detail.
But today, I can feel the tide turning, slowly and gently. I received wonderful support from someone, who helped me make decisions about what to write on the back cover, tidying up my biography, and above all, choosing a cover image. I also received 12 sample pages from the designer, and they look beautiful.
The tide turns in the most delicious way when I begin to let go of being a writer in the late stages of book production, bogged down in footnotes and punctuation marks, and become an artist once more. I let go of the words and have a vision of how the book will look. This afternoon I sat down and did some pages of illustrations for the chapter headings. The images flowed from the charcoal. I feel creative again. The tide is turning, slowly, deliciously, quietly inside me.