It may sound like the most gigantic of cliches but to me writing is like breathing. Words and the arrangement of them is always something that has come naturally to me. I'm not sure why, but storytelling, letter writing and just writing in general always have been things I have loved. Perhaps it is the fact that I have control over what I want to say, or in this case type. Perhaps it's the profound, lasting effect that the words and ideas can have. Words are so powerful. There is no denying that. 

Lately though, I have been experiencing a bit of writer's block or writer's fatigue if you will. I am such a perfectionist when it comes to writing and this year I really want to push myself out of my comfort zone. In particular that involves different styles; poetry, diary writing and life essays are just some of the areas I want to delve into. At the same time though I do have that flicker of self doubt. What if it isn't articulate enough? What if it isn't interesting, engaging or humorous? We are so blessed to have so many gifted writers now and from the past. Lately I've been rereading some of my favourite non-fiction books to try and identify what it is I like about them so much. Not so I can copy their writing. More so I can hope to be inspired by and in turn emulate a bit of their magic. Does any of this ramble make sense? I am thinking aloud here but I think I do need to take the pressure off myself when it comes to writing. Not entirely, otherwise I'll become too relaxed and 'bae' will enter more than just my verbal dictionary*. I just think I need to write and not think about the bigger picture if I am going to be successful here. Maybe I'll publish whatever comes of these sessions. Maybe not. 

Somewhere where I have been channeling a bit of creative energy though is in my FashioNZ writing. This month I published an article on Summer Beauty must-haves, for more beauty writing scroll through their archives. Seven of the twelve articles on the front beauty news page are mine. #humblebrag. I also wrote on the charming and whimsical Viktor and Rolf exhibit in Melbourne. A place where tulle, beaded dreams became a reality. This piece was one I was rather proud as punch about so I'd love it if you read it. 

If you have made it this far through this post or stream of consciousness, thank you for reading. If you have any suggestions for tuning out the background noise when it comes to writing or any creative pursuit, please share them down below. 

*If it ever does, know that I have had some kind of Ben Wyatt of Parks and Rec level meltdown.