I have begun to write fiction again, for the first time in years and years and years. Actually, I cannot remember the last time that I wrote new fiction, so it may have been more recently than that, but I know I have had a nagging feeling every time I set down to write something that I should be writing fiction instead, and that I have been having that feeling for years and years and years. Anyway, it is just a little thing, and not suitable for posting on ME, so it might see the light of day here, or I might just use it in the context it is being developed for.
Category: Art
Depression v. Creativity
So lately I’ve been feeling a little down. By lately, I mean the last several weeks… no less than three, definitely, possibly as many as … 6? I don’t know for sure. By a little down, I mean something between a bitter melancholy and deep, raging nihilistic depression. Luckily, through years of careful training, I am now able, even in the throes of deepest, darkest depression, to get out of bed and get things done.
Painting on my TV again
I spend a lot of time waiting for paint to dry. I think the most interesting way to watch paint dry is with half a TV show fighting its way through.
I’m painting on my TV again. Jennifer Connelly this time. Should be interesting.
Should be interesting watching TV for the next day or two through partially completed or half-dry images obscuring the view.
More than just dancing
I was out late, up late, last night. I didn’t roll into bed until 4, and I didn’t roll into sleep until after 5:30, if my trying-to-get-to-sleep-at-the-time memory serves me correctly. I woke up at first this morning at 10:30 and then lay in bed until 11:30. I’ve always liked taking an extra hour or so to just lounge about in bed before the day starts. I really makes things feel okay. Starting the day off slowly seems to help remind me that there is no real reason to hurry through life. No reason to “Save Time”; time is for spending.
Did I tell you I’ve basically finished my home hunting? That little house I wanted to rent, the one that was right in the neighborhood I originally wanted, the one that was $125 less/month then the next cheapest rental in even the extended area I was looking in, through some amount of finagling, will be mine. Because my work hours do not allow me to meet with the rental company offering it, I had to do some things out of order to get an application to them before anyone else’s and get it paid for as well. I have yet to meet anyone related to the house, though I have spoken to several of them over the phone. Regardless, within 24hrs of the time the first person was officially allowed to see the interior of the house, 6 applications (in addition to mine) were submitted. Mine was the first, and the first processed as a result, and (because I have “great credit”) it was approved first and I get the house. Hooray!
It feels like Friday
It feels like friday, and I kind of wish it was. I recently discovered that Monday is Memorial day, and that I don’t have to work. I also (theoretically) will be able to spend some time with Sara on Monday in the evening, which I am looking forward to. I do my best not to live each week as though the weekdays were only there in anticipation of the weekend, and it isn’t hard since I tend to have just as little to do on weekends as I have to do on weekday evenings. Besides seeing Sara on Monday and perhaps watching Pearl Harbor Friday after work, I don’t really have any idea what I’ll be doing this weekend.
I’m certain that the time will pass whether I have plans for it or not. I’m fairly certain that things will happen as the time passes, and that I may witness or even participate in them. Maybe a little riding around for hours looking at houses that aren’t available or cost too much. Maybe a little fighting with .css files so that this webpage displays properly in more than one browser at a time. Maybe I’ll get back to work on that huge painting I’ve had looming over me since February. Maybe I’ll walk around in circles wondering what to do all weekend.