On Friday I had a tarot reading with Deb in which she told me I had this really fantastic creative energy around me and that now was the time to just let myself go, don't think about the potential monetary value of anything, and just make art, big art (literally or figuratively, I'm not quite sure). This was great news, of course. But, since the moment I got home from the reading, it's almost as if (no, it is as if) I'm afraid to try anything. Because if I fail at an attempt now, it's not just myself I'm disappointing; it's the fucking cosmos, the universe, the world at large.
I'm frozen. I'm surprised I can write this because aside from the occasional email, chat (which doesn't really count because it's just written conversation), and Facebook status updates (with which I'm a little obsessed lately), I haven't been able to write anything. I need to work on my Top Whatever essay for the KDHX blog but so far I've only been able to compile a list of what I want to put in it. I'm working on a long poem but I've only been able to delete some stuff, not write anything new.
My drawing pencils and my sketch pad sit near me every day. Yesterday I placed the pad rightnext to me on the couch, intending to get to it just as soon as I finished...something else. That something turned into another something turned into another something. I guiltily eyed the sketch pad several times, but always found something else as an excuse to look away and ignore it.
And then there's this: I'm really content with my life right now; I'm quite happy. I'm having a very simple existence these days, simplified to, basically, food, art and sex (cooking/music, writing, painting/love and affection). Is being content a detriment to creativity? Do I need to want something/some things/someone to shift my brain?
Tomorrow I swear to try, no matter what I'm feel Maybe a little force i necessary.
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