If someone were to ask me what my hobbies are, I’m not sure I could give them a straight answer. There are so many things that give me joy or that I find an interest in, but to say that I actively seek one of those things out on a regular basis. Nope, can’t say that.
I used to find great joy in dancing. Tap and African dance specifically. I can still feel the African drums inside of me. Listening for the slightest change in tempo, which would signify the next dance move. The dances were wild and fluid and beautiful and cultural. Wrapped in fabric, moving ferociously.
Reading has always been a pastime, not a chore. I abandoned my kindle a couple years back and returned to the feel and smell of a physical book. Given the right book, I can disappear for hours.
I used to write poems. Lots of them. Long ones, short ones, ones that didn’t rhyme. I have notebooks (plural) full of poems. With National Poetry Month approaching, I am going to stretch that muscle that has gone unused for so long. I figure that would get my writing poetry again and to your delight (ha) give me something to post on a semi daily (no promises) basis. Should be fun, right?
A couple years ago, I purchased one of those super professional DSLR cameras. I took photography in high school (at the same place where I took tap and African dance…man I loved that place). I haven’t taken a picture since last summer. I told myself that I just have to start carrying my camera with me. Once I replace my lens cap of course.
On this Resurrection Sunday, I am ready to start anew. I will fall back into all of the things I love, seek out those who share the same interests and let the introvert in my shine in the event that I want to do one or all of these things alone.
P.S. I renewed my learner’s permit. I took and failed my road test twice. Third time’s a charm, or nah?