It's been a long year. One I can hardly believe is almost over. I'm trying to apply myself to what's left of it.
The last days...maybe a week or so, I've endeavored to create some self-discipline in myself. It's too early to declare it a success or not. I'm doing things, though. I'm crossing things off lists I've had/modified/lost/rewritten many times over the years. It hurts sometimes...to make myself pay attention. It hurts to sit at my desk instead of the floor with my laptop propped on a trashcan. (I needed to try harder.) But I try to tell myself it's worth it. And it does feel good to finish a thing (or a part of a thing).
I'm making new lists, breaking down big tasks, organizing bits and pieces...eliminating redundancies. I'm not perfect. I get distracted...for hours sometimes. I get frustrated, wayward. I'm still officially unemployed. I go to bed knowing most days that I could have done more. My lists still include 'gimme' tasks like 'get up' and 'get dressed'. I still need the easy reward, that simple gratification to get me to tackle the bigger things...the things I've been scared to try.
I want to keep this up. I want to get better. I want to go to bed knowing that, while there will always be more to do, I'm satisfied with my effort that day.
So I'm back here. I'm photographing things again (with my camera, my iPod, and soon a new cell phone). I'm writing again. I'm making again. I'm revisiting old ideas which is birthing new ones. I'm out-of-practice. My creative muscles are easily fatigued. But the workout each day feels good.
As ever,
me.
