I didn’t meet my goal of having an outline even of The Project.  Two sick toddlers, sick Huzzy, sick me.  An insidious flu that won’t let go.

I’ve spent too many moments beating myself up for not meeting that deadline and for feeling behind.  I should say, “more behind,” because at 38, I already feel behind in artistic pursuits, Georgia O’Keefe isn’t inspiring me right now.

My solution?  No deadline.  I’m a creature who never actually works well with them.  I get things done faster when they’re open-ended projects. 

The writing will get done when it gets done.  Instead of attacking a scene/outline/lyrics with resentment and worry that I’m behind, I want to sit down and write it because it needs to be written.  Because it bursts forth.  Because it should be and I want it to.

This means sticking to my writing schedule, of course, but sometimes I will just write a story or a poem or an article.  The Project only when it comes from a giggly, bubbly, strong place.  Not a place of worry and weakness.

I have glossed over this blog and seen how unhappy the last few months have been, artistically.  I want to get back to writing the blog posts I started with — more complex, more funny, more me. 

Happy New Year!  It’s a beautiful day.