Migraines and Jazz

Every once and again (a.k.a 95% of the time) I become consumed with the need to be perfect in all things. Especially in my writing. So consumed with it that I don't bother writing at all because I know it won't be perfect. Then every once and again (a.k.a the other 5% of the time) my heart reminds me how much I love writing and being creative. My mind fills with these little worlds full of love, mystery, intrigue, and sometimes even murder. These worlds become little love letters to me, reminding me that it's okay to be imperfect, just love what you do and enjoy the happy accidents. This is where those little worlds live.

Love, Me.