And She is endlessly patient…
* * *
It has been an interesting two and half months since leaving the dayjob. I still haven’t found my rhythm yet. The dayjob was a forced rhythm and now I’m forced to make my own and I keep stumbling and falling on my face. Learning curve. I’ll get through it, but right now, it’s like learning a new piece of music. It sounds like crap. Metaphorically.
I’ve spent a great deal of that time in de-cluttering and restructuring the house itself. Now that I’m here all the time, the need to make things work for my real work is an imperative. By default, that means making the house work better for everyone else too. It’s been pretty sub-optimal for a while.
I’ve not done any new writing for the most part, though I did get a few hundred words written on a short story that had stalled out a while ago. I’ve been editing Unformed, but it’s slow going, as see above statement about finding my rhythm. I’ve not found my writing/editing groove yet and it shows. Painfully.
Ditto photography and filmmaking. Lots of false starts. Lots of stops.
In the meantime, it has gotten bitter and cold again outside, which is just fine with me, though I would like a fireplace. It’s the sort of day that really should be better spent in front of a fire with a book and a cup of tea.