accidental flares of love burst through the atmosphere

All I Want

IMG_2703 Early mornings feel good. Something in my system has switched in the past year, rarely affording me the luxury of sleeping past 9 o'clock no matter how late I stay up. At 2o years old I used to sleep until 1pm in between college semesters, feeling no remorse for missing a third of my day. At 27 and 11/12 I am happiest when I'm up at 8 on a Sunday morning, taking out my recycling in my glasses as some beautiful neighbor gets in the elevator and looks at me like, "whoa, she looks way different without contacts in." I come back inside and make tea and sit down to write or draw, but nothing comes. I put on music that my dad would listen to on a Sunday morning if I were in Franklinville. At least that's how it's been for the past several weeks.

My mistake might be that I keep putting on mood music to set the tone of the post or art I keep trying to create. There is something inside of my head that wants to come out, but I've struggled to put it down in any artistic way for a long time. I've been listening to a lot of Joni Mitchell lately.  This Flight Tonight especially - I can't stop listening to that song. I watched an interview earlier this week that rattled me because I related to so much of what she said re: music and art and herself. Her words made me feel like I could create anything, so I found myself extra let down when my creative block still hadn't lifted.

I'm sitting in silence this morning, other than a slight morning buzz coming in through the window, and I think it's working. I like to be reclusive and removed from other people's noise, but maybe my normal go-to habits to drown out that noise haven't been enough. I haven't been home in 8 months, and the emotional clutter tends to build up after so long. I'm excited to book a flight to Franklinville.

Part of my creative struggle is because I feel a tremendous pressure to be more. It's become very obvious that I don't care to sell the things I draw or paint. If I wanted that, I would have made it happen myself because I know me, and that's what I do when I want something. I do think selling would be a good idea, but I just can't make myself do it. It makes me hate art. I'm weighed down by the consumer-y atmosphere surrounding art on the internet. I read a lot of blogs written by wonderfully creative people, but so much of what they post exhausts me lately. Wrap colored tape around extension cords and chargers to make them beautiful! How to sell anything! Look at these 20 pretty things that are for sale here and here andhereandherehrdnenrnahr

All I take away from that is a general feeling of Don't you ever want to just shut the fuck up and think about what's important to you and what's important in life?

This week I'm treating myself to a Fender acoustic guitar and a digital piano that I've been eyeing for months. I think maybe I need to reconnect with the musical side of my creativity. On two instruments that I don't really know how to play. But I understand music, and I can't write the kind of song I want to write on a flute or a piccolo (nor can I really practice a flute or a piccolo when my neighbors can practically hear me breathe). I can improvise and compose on a flute so easily, and I like what I create. So I might as well put some focus on making something that's just for me. I don't feel like my drawings are just for me anymore. Most of that is my fault because I share them on Instagram, which has unfortunately made the ultimate question be, "will people like this?" instead of, "does this make me feel better?" But a little bit of it is because I seem to have a herd of people giving me their opinions on everything I do, and ignoring it/fighting it/understanding it is really wearing me out. Last week my manager asked me, "so are there some days where you just feel more creative than others?" and it was asked so sweetly and with such good intentions that I couldn't possibly feel any irritation from it, in fact it made me feel relieved and happy that he was trying to understand, but the normal, Hurricane-Hanna-reaction would have been, "FUCKING OBVIOUSLY."

...It's becoming more apparent as I write this - the real issue isn't a creative block, the real issue is that I just need everyone to get the hell away from me for a while, hahaha. Look at what we've accomplished with this quiet, early-morning post!

I've got all the time in the world

I'm riding down your moonlight mile

Déjà vu