Well another day has passed. I’m up late, as usual, because I can’t sleep and my mind is alive with thoughts and images buzzing around in my head. Creativity? Maybe…but it annoys the heck out of my husband who likes to go to bed early and get up early.
I got into the habit of staying up late when I was at university. I did my best work at night. Assignments and essays that is. I’m definitely NOT a morning person, and hate the nine to five regime that work brings. Which creates a dilemma, and my first question.
I’m between jobs. I got sick of my early morning, ten hour day bullet-proof ‘can-do’ attitude, and canned it two weeks ago. I needed a rest, which is certainly true, but my brain says that I also need the stimulation and challenge that work brings. In other words, as much as I would like to be a lazy sloth for a few weeks, I’m fighting it, and I want to go back to work. But what will I do? Part of me is saying that there is no time like the present to get stuck into my writing and practice, practice, practice. Another, more logical (and far more annoying) side of me is saying – you need to work to live, your self esteem and your fundamental nature depend on it.
Which brings me to my next question. Why doesn’t writing, or my other creative pursuits, fill the void? I think the answer lies in fear and self confidence. My fear of being an absolute failure and the confidence to say, well hang it, I’m good for it, I will have a go, and accept critique gracefully.
So I will have a go, with the diary of my life and my feelings, and approach each category here with a creative mind and heart. No, I’m not a professional, I don’t pretend to be. Nonetheless I will give it my all, experiment with different styles, and trawl the internet for advice and like-minded people.
Logging off for now.