Getting started is partly stalling... But once something is really under way, I don't want to do anything else. I don't go out, much of the time i forget to eat, I sleep very little. It's a very undisciplined way of working and makes me not very prolific. But I'm too interested in many other things.

Writing requires huge amounts of solitude. What I've done to soften the harshness of that choice is that I don't write all the time. I like to go out... I like to talk. I like to listen. I like to look and to watch. Maybe I have an Attention Surplus Disorder. The easiest thing in the world for me is to pay attention.

I work on what's important to me in the morning, for three hours. Usually, in the afternoon, I have what I call my "toy truck," a story that might develop or might not, but meanwhile it's fun to work on. I begin to pile up some pages, and eventually it'll get shifted over to the morning...

Working on a new idea is kind of like getting married. Then a new idea comes along and you think, "Man, I'd really like to go out with her. "But you can't. At least not until the old idea is finished. I don't take notes, I don't outline, I don't do anything like that. I just flail away at the goddamned thing.

I work on what's important to me in the morning, for three hours. Usually, in the afternoon, I have what I call my "toy truck," a story that might develop or might not, but meanwhile it's fun to work on. I begin to pile up some pages, and eventually it'll get shifted over to the morning...

Working on a new idea is kind of like getting married. Then a new idea comes along and you think, "Man, I'd really like to go out with her. "But you can't. At least not until the old idea is finished. I don't take notes, I don't outline, I don't do anything like that. I just flail away at the goddamned thing.

Separated from night
You spoke and then there was light
They point to You

Divided water from land
Bowing to Your command
They point to You

The sun that’s blazing at noon
And every phase of the moon
They point to You.

A baby’s cry and the way
A sunset closes the day
They point to You.

*For You’re the only One worth praising
More radiant than earth and sky
And everyday that I survey Your creation
I see why I see why

**God of everything I see,
Come create again in me
You were yesterday
and You will always be
So take each breath that I breathe
And be the life that I bleed
Create again in me

The storm that’s raging at sea
The little child on her knees
They point to You

Your grace that’s poured out on me
The sacrifice on a tree
They point to You

Your Word vaults across the sky
From sunrise to sunset
Melting the ice, scorching the desert
Warm our hearts to faith...

create again in me...

Create Again
Aaron Shust

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“ปกติแล้ว นิโกลามักจะสอดส่ายสายตามองดูหนุ่มๆ หล่อๆที่เดินผ่านไปผ่านมา เขาจะรู้สึกเฉยชาต่อเพศตรงข้ามมานานแล้ว แต่กลับหลงใหลในภาพลักษณ์ของบุรุษเพศ เขามักจะเดินไปตามถนนหนทางที่ไม่ค่อยมีพวกผู้หญิงมากนัก ถึงแม้ว่าจะสังเกตได้ไม่ชัดแต่ก็สังเกตได้บ่อยๆจากสายตาของเขา ทุกครั้งเวลากลับบ้านเขามักจะหวนคิดถึงสิ่งมีชีวิตเพศแม่ที่น่าจะร่วมชีวิต กับเขาได้ (ยกเว้นไว้สองคน คือ คลีโอพัตรา กับ คนขายของชำ) แต่นั่นก็เป็นเรื่องที่ยุ่งยากเอาการ เขาจึงย้อนกลับไปคิดถึงบรรดาหนุ่มๆนับสิบทั้งผมสีน้ำตาล ผมสีทองหยักศกทั้งหลายที่เขามักจะคอยเฝ้ามองและเดินตามหนุ่มๆเหล่านั้นจนลับ ตาไป” p19

“จูเลียงตะโกนออกมา นิโกลาหวังใจว่าเขาจะปฏิเสธ มิแชลถอดกางเกงขาสั้นของจูเลียงออกแล้วหยิบเอาเจลหล่อลื่นมาทา จูเลียงยังคงประกบปากอยู่กับนิโกลา มิแชลเอาไอ้นั่นเสียบเข้าไปที่ประตูหลังของจูเลียงแล้วส่ายเอวร่อนสองมือก็ ยึดสะโพกของจูเลียงเอาไว้อย่างแน่นหนา จูเลียงร้องครวญครางเสียงหลง มิแชลเริ่มออกแรงขึ้นเรื่อยๆ

‘หยุด บอกให้หยุด’ จูเลียงร้องครวญคราง” p164-165

Once I was blind, but now I see.

Dear Love,
Thank You for this wonderful blog