This is the hardest time of the year for me when it comes to finding creativity and inspiration because I feel tired and cold and angry that I feel tired and cold. February was “named after Februalia, the Roman festival of purification,” and it came dead last in the Roman calendar every year, which are some neat facts for a godforsaken month. Regardless of the historical highlights of February, I feel neither purified nor very Roman (aside from the gorging and lounging around).
Additionally, we just got hammered with snow here in Michigan and even though spring starts next month, I feel a great sense of hopelessness drowning my motivation in a shallow pond. I am tired, cold, angry, and I do not feel like doing any of the things that make me feel less tired, cold, and angry.
For 28 days, this month sure is a bummer.
There is Valentine’s Day, I guess, and it is also Black History Month, so it is not a complete wash; and, my wife bought me some hot sauce from a vendor I like, and I have read a ton of Langston Hughes and Claude McKay with my students, which is great because their stories and poems always make me want to write a little bit more (even in February).
This post is full of complaints and for that I am sorry, but I am also frustrated that I have not felt the drive to write anything and I have been on break from school and work for the past five days. Still, I suppose I will get over it and head into the next month with my head held a little higher and with a book firmly tucked under my arm. April is National Poetry Month, so I will look ahead to see what I can share with you fine readers.
Keep writing, folks.