Where I’ve Been

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If you’re reading this, I first want to thank you for sticking with me this long. I started this blog exactly six years ago in the same year and only a few short months before the world was going to shutdown due to a global pandemic. Since then, I’ve accomplished so much that I wanted as a writer, including self-publishing my own book— during a week-long power outage in my area. I can’t say that second part was in my plans when I envisioned publishing my debut book, but if I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that nothing ever goes strictly as planned.

You may have noticed my long absence on this site, and for that, I have no excuses. Since writing and releasing my book, I’ve been stuck in a long period of intense writer’s block. The same place I was in five months ago, during my last blog post celebrating one year of my book—the last time that I’ve written anything.

I’ve discussed it here before but I’ll say it again that it’s a tough feeling—to feel like I’m no longer a writer, because the words to say have simply not come to me in so long. But what I’ve realized is that I will always be a writer, and writing will always be a part of who I am, even during periods when I am not creating. This is certainly not the last you’ve heard from me, and I look forward to a long future doing what I love to the most.

So where have I been? I’ve been spending time with those I love most— my family and friends. I’ve been making an effort to take more pictures, to encapsulate all moments—to the smallest, seemingly trivial days to the more significant times this year, such as meeting a new family member!

In this new year, when I’m not creating, I wish to read more works from those who inspire me— a goal I’ve always set, but admittedly, have yet to fulfill completely. This shall be made possible now that I’ve acquired the book The Poetry of Emily Dickinson, someone I admire deeply. She’s a young woman who never realized her full potential, whose goal was never to write to publish and be seen, but simply for herself because she genuinely loved the art itself. She’s proof that despite what “success” may mean in the aspect of one’s career, notoriety might not even come until our days have long passed on this Earth. Like Dickinson, I too write for nobody but myself, to satiate this itch, this calling from within my soul. Despite this, in the new year I will work on improving my self-promotion, so one day the world knows about my words, and projects such as my book, that I put my soul into.

So looking ahead to this new year of 2026, and moving forward, I think the question isn’t about where I’ve been, but where I’m going.

~~~
Happy New Year!

One Year of My Debut Poetry Book ‘If I Bare My Soul’!

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One year ago today, I took a leap of faith (no pun intended), and released my first-ever book. It was something that had always been this distant dream of mine, but one that seemed like so far-fetched of an idea. However when I found self-publishing, I was finally able to officially pursue this project last January. By July, I had a complete collection of poems and strings of stories woven together straight from my heart.

July 10th, 2024, a day that was supposed to be marked by excitement and self-fulfillment, instead had a dark cloud looming overhead. By this day, it had already been three days since myself and many of others in my whole city had been without electricity. Though I was briefly able to find just enough cell service to share my project, by then every place around me that once looked so full of life, seemingly turned into a ghost town. I spent many sleepless nights in a car, in the thick of summer’s heat, just praying to get out of this testing time as I’d deliriously watch the rise and fall of the sun. It wouldn’t be until two days later that I’d be able to celebrate my debut book having been published.

Fast forward a year later, as I observe all the lives affected by the recent devastating floods in my home state of Texas, I’m reminded of my gratitude for life. While my journey as a self-published author didn’t begin as planned, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know now that we  can have all these things in our lives meticulously planned out the way we’d hope for them to go, but these expectations might never come to fruition precisely as such, and we have to be accept with that. 

When I say I poured my all into this project, I truly mean it. Admittedly, I haven’t found the words to say (or write), since I spilled my entire soul on those pages bound in this book. It’s a tough feeling, that maybe this book is all I had in me, that I’ve got nothing left to say. Still, I continue to seek inspiration everywhere. I’ve learned to never force art, but to let creativity find me. So while it may seem like I’m achieving nothing in this period of stillness, I am giving myself this time to soak up life like a sponge, to examine the world’s stories, in order to authentically create as I feel the passion to do so. This is only the beginning of my story and I can’t wait to find out what’s next for me.

I want to express my deepest appreciation to anyone who has ever supported me along the way in this journey I’m on as a writer. To any and all family members, friends, or strangers that have purchased my book, I could never thank you enough. To me, this book wasn’t about the performance or numbers, but simply about having a physical representation of my passion for written expression. This was to prove to nobody but myself, that I can set upon anything I put my mind to, and that if my art should speak to anyone else in the world, then it will shall its way to the right people. 

Happy one year of If I Bare My Soul!

✍🏻📖🫀