But since I'm still getting my feet wet at blogging again, and the main visits to this page have been from me, checking to see if I've had visitors, :o) I think I won't try that just now.
Instead I'll leave you with some writing inspiration, something I have loved for many years and have probably shared before. But for me, it never gets old:
The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create -- so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.
-Pearl S. Buck