I read somewhere, recently, that not writing when you feel compelled is like watching a pressure cooker full of tomatoes explode all over the kitchen.  Well, that’s kind of how I feel lately – Like the tomato splatter is all of the words in my head and they just have to come out somewhere. With that in mind, I’ve been doodling and daydreaming and writing stupid two sentence poems all over my meeting notes.

In the land of playing with money, people don’t often scribble poems in the margin of the meeting notes. Mostly they take more notes in the margins of their notes all in the name of being better at playing with money. But, playing with money isn’t all that creative and doesn’t require constant focus for me to figure out the nuances. So, I don’t know that anyone has actually noticed that I have words, spattered like stewed tomatoes on a cieling, all over the margins of my pages.

I’m starting to notice that my words sometimes don’t actually go together to formulate comprehensive sentences. And, I lean heavily toward the dramatic. But, it feels very good to release the pressure and just write down words that I don’t often get to use in the land of playing with money. When I finally told MFH and OFM about my newly rekindled passion for writing, MFH reminded me that I could, <insert dramatic gasp here> start by blogging.

That brings me to now, I’m writing, albeit about absolutely nothing. But it feels really nice to get thoughts out of my head and see the words come together in a semi-coherent fashion.

I’m brought to the conclusions that 1. playing with money is a temporary profession and not my career, 2. pursuing a passion isn’t selfish, but can be done in the margins, and 3. I really like words.

What passion of yours do you practice in the margins of your ordinary life?

Image by Wm Jas via Flickr