I seem to be the most creative when I’m happiest and vice versa.
I suppose this follows. What makes you happier than being in the midst of a creative project?
The downside is that, when times are tough, my muse deserts me. It’s a little like how, when stressed, some of us contract stress-related illnesses, which add to the stress (which is a damned stupid system, if you ask me).
My times are certainly challenging at the moment. I’ve whined enough here about my job situation but now I find that one of the legs of my viability’s chair – the vehicle leg – has gone (the other three legs are health, computer, and, wobbly but still there, job):
On Christmas Eve, some 30 miles from my home, my truck developed a blown head gasket, the results of which are the need to replace my engine – a necessity I can ill afford. Consequently, I am now sans vehicle for the foreseeable future and must rely on public transit, the kindness of friends, and walking to get from place to place.
As I do this, I find myself wondering why I didn’t consider public transit and walking more before my truck died (frugality! environment! health!) but must admit less enthusiasm for being forced into doing so.
Further, my present trajectory seems rather unpromising to me. At this rate I should find myself living in a battered single-wide, married to a woman I refer to as “Maw,” and sporting a mullet within a year. Ah, well: as long as I can get me some wrasslin’ on the tv, everthin’ll be jus’ fahn. (yes, I’m a snob – which makes my situation not only ironic but just)
This three legged chair upon which I find myself perched, necessitates a forward leaning attitude in order to maintain balance. The point being that, beyond trying to claw my way out of the ant lion’s pit, I don’t seem to have any gumption. My muse is a sorry wench who deserts me the minute I can’t keep her in the emotional equivalent of wine and caviar, thus I cannot promise any regularity to the updates, here from now on.
Please: I don’t write this to get statements of support or pity (or even cruel derision) from my assumed audience but rather to stave off any thought that I have “run dry,” creatively or worry that I may have been taken by some irresistible undertow of black emotion.
It’s just that I dislike a dead blog and feel terrible being the proprietor of one – but I’ll be back.
please come back soon. and hang in there in the meantime. my chair’s banged up, too..