Have I failed the challenge? That quickly? Watch me backpedal and say that I only said I would do 31 posts in the next days until September was over, and so I haven't exactly failed, and can get back on course with a quick correction. Do you buy that? Can we continue? Good.
I'v been dog sitting for the past week for a couple of dear friends of mine, and their apartment is full of whimsy and wonder. I'd intended for it to be a place to really bucks down and create, and yet, I encountered all of the same demons here that I would have encountered at home. The good thing is that I HAVE been more creative here than I think I would have at my own apartment, just not as creative as I imagined, and if we can assume there is always going to be, at least, a small gap between the imagined ideal and the imperfect reality, than I can be happy about what I achieved. What was that, you ask? The beginning of a painting (my first since seventh grade) a couple of blog posts, and some notes on a future Cathy Dresden show.
I've also been thinking about a piece of fiction, something I've had percolating for a while and that I may want to work on during Nanowrimo. I have yet to finish the piece I started last year, and interestingly enough i am right down to the finish line folks. The problem is it's a mystery, and the ending I had been plotting seems a little less than spectacular, and the part of me that had said to myself "mysteries are never really about the 'dun' in 'whodunnit', but the who". I'd convinced myself it was enough to have a great idea, fun characters, and a couple of pre-planned twists. But now I am doubting those twists. And while it has yet to be a year since I started the project, and in that time I have managed to write nearly 100,000 words, the little whisperings of doubt tend to find their way to my ears no matter what. Hopefully though, it has been long enough since I wrote last that I have given myself a little space from the attachment of perfection, and I can realize the truth that done and imperfect is better that potentially perfect and never finished.
It feels like early on in our lives, every one of us is convinced to cast aside a piece of ourselves. Whether that something is as big as a sexual preference or as seemingly insignificant as a favorite color. Here's my journey to taking those pieces back.
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