Reality Check: My Knives Are Dull

I've been scared of words lately. I love words, I really do. They can be beautiful, powerful, intelligent, and meaningful, or they can be clumsy. I have been reading T. S. Elliot lately, and he is a master of words, both in his poetry and prose. At first reading Elliot was exhilarating, and fueled my own quest to wield words. Then, as I read how deeply he struggled to use words well, I became doubtful that I could ever use words sufficiently.

So I haven't written much lately. Life seemed too complex to communicate accurately. But my words will never be perfect; only His words are perfect. So life will go on, and I must write, cutting away at the web of the world and making a path with the dull swords that I have. Why am I telling you this?

1. Well, I want to remind you, and mainly myself, what this blog is about. You may have noticed that the header on my blog says "experiments in publications." I mean it. These posts aren't polished art, or sleek rhetorical weapons. They are mainly attempts to learn about communication, and are mainly for me. Of course I'm happy for you to read along. 
2. To assert that life comes before aesthetics. While I spend a fair amount of time staring at the sky, my feet have yet to leave the ground. My writing lives the same way. I would love to be able to write artistically and poetically, but I am glad to be able to write at all. 
3. To remind myself, and you, that I don't have nearly everything (or hardly anything) figured out, but that's okay. I'm just chipping away at what I know. Right now it is slow, but I may reach soft rock very soon. You never know unless you keep at it. 
4. Because joy is too good to be quiet about it. It's worth spilling ink over joy, even if you can't articulate it accurately. However many splotches and spills I make, I will keep throwing ink out there, in the hope of hitting the mark sometime.