This morning finds me a little under the weather and feeling like the only friend I want in the world is my duvet and a few really, really good books. Maybe a cup of tea and a deliciously groomed man at the business end giving my freshly pedicured toes a thorough and proper massage that leads to lazy, sleepy sex. He may or may not have a beard and be wearing an Irish-knit sweater…
But let’s go back to the books before we add the hero, shall we?
When I can’t make up my mind about what to read, I know I’m in a state of creative hurricane.
If you are a creative type with slight control issues like myself, the process can get unwieldy, kinda like a long silk scarf on a windy Paris evening. You aren’t sure why you need it, and you haven’t got a clue where it’s going.
Underlying my jitters is the need to get to work on a creative project to satisfy a not-so-creative, rather logical A-to-B strategic business plan. Talk about an identity crisis!
I know myself. I know my pattern. I trust that my sub-conscious will work away at grooming and awakening the beast until she’s tame enough to bring out of the cave and introduce to the world. Speaking about ideas and engaging an audience always energizes me, and I know no matter how carefully planned, there is unique alchemy between a room full people. I like to bring enough energy and ideas to ensure that the magic is joyful and empowering.
It just so happens that when I’m feeling most creative, I also feel the most stuck. I procrastinate in a zillion ways, mostly by entertaining the glittering, fleeting thoughts that my brain shoots off like fireworks on Chinese New Year.
Some of these thoughts include;
1) Packing up and moving to a boat on the west coast.
2) Pursuing a relationship with a man who I’m sure is scared to death of me.
3) Painting my little apartment.
4) Getting a fish as a muse at my desk in my messy office.
5) Finally getting a real start on my second novel.
6) Catching up on personal email.
7) Having an affair with a long-lost love in a city I’ve never visited.
8) Having my teeth professionally whitened.
9) Reminding myself that I need to buy a large envelope to return a wrong-sized shirt that I bought on Jost Van Dyke with a kind note, self-addressed envelope and a twenty-dollar bill for return postage.
10) I forgot to set a hair appointment for a gala event next week.
11) Why I feel torn between identifying as blue-collar or white-collar, and why it matters anyway.
12) Thinking of a man who would enjoy sharing the coffee I just bought in Puerto Rico.
The thoughts are so exhausting that I inevitably get trapped in my fun-house brain, let the minutes turn into hours, and then find myself at the stove cooking dinner, in bed and waking up to my alarm clock telling me it’s time to go to work. “Maybe I should get that fish,” I think to myself as I pull on my suit pants.
I can be super organized and businesslike. I am super organized and business like in my professional life which has tentacles that reach well beyond Monday to Friday and 9-to-5. I believe that’s why the creative mess and magic of my home and writing life makes me so happy. Regardless of what I ‘produce’, my piles of unread and half-read books, bag of empty canvases and half used watercolors remind me that potential in life, learning and relationships is infinite, and that my darlings is what makes it worth living.