***Please note: I am using my aunt’s really old computer at the moment. It crashed when I tried to spell check. So beware, misspellings will be found.

San Francisco bound. For once I truly wish I had an ipad or tablet to record my thoughts. With a sigh, I pulled out my small to do book from my purse. I feel the need to write. For myself, for my blog. I just read the publication “Artful Blogging” by Stampington & Company. I had seen it at a few different bookstores. But when I saw it 40% off at Borders going out of business sale, I thought I’d grab it and pack it for my flight. What a wonderful – do I dare call it magazine? Magazine makes it sound cheap or inconsequential for some reason. This was almost a book with spectacular photographs and inspiring authors – highlighting bloggers world wide.

It also has given me a little insight or maybe the realization I need a kick in the pants with my own pathetic little blog site. I had not given myself the freedom of expression. I kept thinking that I had to post about my business, show finished product and give tips about fashion, art, of things to do. My blog has a squeaky voice. The posts that stand out the most are the more personal ones. I have now given myself to loosen up, blog on a more personal level. Even though this blog is my business – Somewhither Arts – my business is me and my work. It’s my creative process.

I look at out the small airplane window and out of the corner of my eye I see the guy sitting by the window. He’s asleep. It reminds me of one of the articles I read form Artful Blogging. 31 strangers. Every day a photographer would go out and photograph a stranger. Of course, they would ask permission. We had a brief conversation, although at first I think it was because he aske me for some tissue, and he was trying to be nice. His ice melts in his ginger ale as he sleeps. It’s on the table between us.

Mountain ranges come into my view. Why is it that I am compelled to write while traveling? It’s okay on a plane, but when I’m driving my thoughts come and go so fast. So many of them I wish I could hold onto.

I guess if I took a photo of the guy next to me, it would be stalker-ish since he is asleep and then it wouldn’t fall into the 31 strangers category since I didn’t ask permission. But I am so bad, very bad at things that must be done every day for a certain amount of time. Like taking antibiotics. I tried last November to do a thankful post once a day, I would have been better sitting down and listing them off in one. But the whole daily thing, it’s suppose to challenge you, get you out of your comfort zone.

I think about the pawn shop the airplane guy is going to for its grand opening – in the same city I’ll be going to, which is a surprise. I thought they were all too snobby for that. But it is a very good size and very upscale. Nothing seedy about it. It makes people comfortable. We all like comfort, that’s why its hard to grow sometimes.

Dang the guy in front of me, leaning his set back and the airline attendant that won’t stop walking up and down the aisle for trash. Distractions. Specially since we’re not landing any time soon. So, I stretch me neck to see crossword puzzles, sudukos, and an old man staring off into space. I see the clouds and I hope I don’t freeze in San Franciscan weather.

My mind is a tumble with things left undone back home. Phone calls to make. Websites to check. Pieces to photograph, post and make. Goose bumps bring me back to the plane, and a yawn.

Time to go back to being just me. I’ve been letting myself be stifled creatively, but time to move on.

Sitting still for two hours has never bothered me before. But I feel restless, that creative energy is building to a physical one and I feel cramped. I need freedom to move on the endless clouds.

Now I remember why I used to wear a watch – you don’t have to turn it off during a flight.