When I write (blog) I lose all manner of time and its pull toward afternoon. Day after day, I wonder where the hours went. Then I remember my wayward ways and give in to plopping down in front of the computer screen while still clothed in my nightie and old slippers. The same thing happens, though, if I pick up a paint brush or new Sharpie and draw to my heart's content. I must never glimpse a blank canvass before breakfast. It's a fatal flaw of mine. I know it's true that when you are pursuing your passion, all time and sensibility, sense and saneness fall away.
Still, even digesting that kind of reasonable mind-bending thinking, I wrestle with the inate to create or at least make a mess of something.
What's the answer to this daytime drama? Stay in bed all day, tie my hands together with the ribbons of my new fabric creation. Hopeless, I am, yet happy as a church mouse, whatever that is.
The crime to all of this nonsense is that I must make a living with this artful life. I just feel it in my bones, peanut butter for dinner. Poverty has never been my idea of a good time.
If you find me on the wings of cyberspace or discover me among the katrillion other bloggers out there, jot me a note, I promise I will read it.
Showing posts with label time management. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time management. Show all posts
Saturday, July 24, 2010
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