Writing Woes

I wish I could really write. I can write with mostly proper English and few spelling errors. I can write down wonderful facts. But I wish I could write something meaningful, poetic, inspiring, entertaining. Anything. I used to write a great deal when I was emotionally drawn. Moments where I could only get it all out if I wrote it down. But I don't have that eloquent style that comes naturally to others. I read several blogs that are awe-inspiring. Mine relate simple facts in mostly simple terms.
I used to make A's in my college English classes. Once a teacher had me read my essay answer on a test to the entire class. I was quite surprised. I didn't think of myself as a very good writer or having a complete grasp of the subject of Victorian poetry. But he asked me to read my answer to the class. When I had to write my 20 page essay in his class and he read my rough draft, he asked me if I was interested in becoming a TA (Teaching assistant) when I graduated. I was very flattered. But I knew that I couldn't do that because the money sucked and I was going need to do my student teaching. But I was truly amazed by it. I guess some people have a natural knack for writing. And others it takes time to hone their writing skills.
Sometimes when I'm driving in my car (which I do a LOT of with my job) I think of wonderful things to write about and clever ways of putting it, but by the time I get home it seems that all those thoughts just vanish. Sometimes there's a vague inkling about the topic I was thinking of, but then I just can't put it into words.
I've bought books on journaling and I know it really just takes practice. But I haven't even taken the time to read the book or practice the journals. So perhaps it's not really in me. The desire is there to be able to contribute something meaningful in my blogs, but it just isn't happening at the moment.
I took a poetry writing class as a continuing education at the local college once. I remember the concept of creating imagery with one's words. I wish I had a better talent for that. It's funny that the poem my teacher liked the best was one that was written in about five minutes agonizing over my state of being on welfare. The tragic love poem I had submitted seemed trite and cliche'.
I think my best writing has come from the times when I've been so filled with emotion the only escape is to write. And lately I haven't experienced such emotional extremes. In many ways that's a good thing. But I don't want my skills dependent on being completely frustrated, depressed, or angry. I want to speak what's in my heart with words that envelop my readers.
Part of it is just finding the time when I can be alone with my thoughts and let them flow. It seems there's always a distraction. The t.v. Supper. Laundry. The phone. Work. Driving. I've decided to go on a retreat. I'm going to take myself somewhere where there's no distraction and just write. About anything. And see where I end up.