I'm curiously happy to be back in front of the computer again -- behind in chair, hands on keyboard and writing as fast as my fingers can key the words. I say curiously happy because doing this is my job. My work. My profession.
Most people dread going to work. I dread not being able to go to work because I feel as if I'm brimming over with thoughts and emotions that have no outlet.
Pablo Picasso said: "The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web."
Emotions mix with ideas and filter through my writer's brain. That's the raw material of all writing -- indeed, of creativity itself. Creativity is like a well that must be emptied so that fresh, clean water will flow in and renew the well.
Writing is hard work -- hard physically, emotionally, and mentally -- but most writers wouldn't dream of doing anything else.