I’m not exactly sure why this is, but I think my creativity works in cycles. It ebbs and flows with the tide and builds only when I’m working at a frenetic pace on other projects. My art and my writing are always effected.
The last couple weeks at the day job have been a little slow, nature of the magazine beast, but I noticed that I was having a hard time coming up with original content for Artsipop during this period. Conversely, the week before all that, when I was really busy at the office, I had post ideas spinning circles in my head, waiting for an outlet. It’s almost as if my creativity kicks in most when I’m the busiest or most stressed out.
…And The Rub
Having all these ideas flowing while I’m busy doing other things makes it tough to actually get any writing done. I have lots of ideas, but no way to turn that potential energy into posts for your perusal.
I must learn to stop beating myself up for not writing as often as I’d like. I’ve spoken before about having fewer things to write about because there’s really not much going on while the kid is still in the belly. This has a lot to do with the post frequency, because not a lot of new stuff happens. Sometimes I feel my bi-weekly updates about the pregnancy are just a way for me to fill space. I hardly talk about the actual pregnancy, but rather, the circumstances surrounding our pregnant life. I’m not always exactly on topic, but try to stay in the basic vicinity.
Being ok with derivatives is a big issue with me. I have no idea why, but I feel that if I move to far to the edge of things, I may end up losing my focus, and you’ll all leave me. Please don’t leave me. Please! I need all the friends I can get, especially when I need to get out of the house because I can’t stand the smell of baby wipes any longer. Someone needs to ask me out for a beer and some testosterone driven sporting event. I wonder if there’s any coincidence between our baby coming and most sporting event seasons being over. Hmm, it could be a conspiracy.
Honestly, I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Pay no attention to the monkey in front of the keyboard, folks. It gets better than this, I promise.
