It's November 18th. On a normal year I would have written 2/3rds of a novel, started Christmas cards, planned an epic Thanksgiving, set up a handful of timely trades or commissions, filled a few more journals...
But this isn't a normal year. So I bought a tiny chicken from Winco that I will cook this coming weekend and pretend it's a turkey, I resolved to finish my writing project even though it won't be anywhere near 50k words and I picked up an ugly as sin composition book to trick myself into journaling or drawing or doing ANYTHING again.
A little less than a year ago I did a comp book I sent off to Lynn. All I remember was that by the end of it I had some newfound rekindled sense of purpose for writing/art. And that the entire thing was a shit show. Following the logic that it worked once, I'm doing it again. This time with the request that she returns the comp book when I'm 30. She does not know she's involved with this yet.
I even learned from my mistakes and taped the pages together before starting this time.
Here's me in all my Sunday glory. (It's really been a good day, despite the creating blahs.)
A tiny bird sounds ok too... I started arting a composition book up this spring and it's pretty much the only thing that got any attention since then as I went through my severe reaction to the shingles vaccine I got around the same time. Though I have improved greatly some of the symptoms may take years... Chin up sweety, sending hugs and hey Imma art up an envelope and send that too.
ReplyDeleteI figured just being able to cook some Thanksgiving inspired food, even if it's a small affair, would be less depressing than skipping it entirely. I am glad you're a bit on the mend and hanging in there. Hugs to you and a happy Thanksgiving <3
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