the proverbial etc



Today is one of those days that feels like a heavy sigh.
Gray out with rain switching on and off and on and off and heavy and light and so on a so forth

An uninspiring kind of day that makes you want to stay inside.
I ambled out of bed, ambled almost sounds too graceful,

I fell out of bed.

My morning as usual begins with fits and starts. Too long in the shower, not long enough time over the bronzer, leaving my cheek bones two shades too dark. 

Grab my camera stuffing an extra battery into the bag and hurry off to my first job of the day.

A bathroom renovation.

Not the most creative.

No creativity in this one.

But its fodder for the week.

This is the life of a semi creative trying to be her own boss.

Ive been doing this gig for a while now - photography. However, days like today still make it feel like I’ve just started out.

The last year has been a bit of a hard pill to swallow.
The pill of    "you’re not quite there yet"

" There " still being a slightly unknown vocation or perhaps known but seemingly unobtainable.

As of late its looked like the juggling act of trying to narrow down my jobs to more regular ones in order to fixate more on the creative aspect of what I do, yet somehow this has created a cycle of busyness that I didn’t anticipate. Rinse and repeat.

Scrambling to pay rent or wondering about the next pay cheque is a constant ( or how long you will spend chasing up that invoice ) which I guess is the creatives lot in life, at least at some point. In that regards I try to find solace in biographies of the greats, Patti Smith, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan and with some slither of hope have a mantra that perhaps this is the hard yards before the goodness comes through. Though I may be a few years too late to be holding onto a similar fate. 

Inspiration is something tricky to figure out for me. Especially in the age where you're flooded with images and it seems that everything has been done a million times over. 

I find creativity takes form of some sort of winged creature that visits at unexplainable hours.

At times this creature appears in a flurry of feathers and wind in the wee hours of the morning, or just before the fall of sleep.

But other times its in the middle of the day when I’m arms deep in monotonous admin and I have to make a split decision to follow its lead or to hunker down and get the proverbial did.

It always has a sort of urgency with it. As if it needs its landing place or it won’t be able to rest until it does. I once heard a ted talk of a writer describing this as a sort of wind and that if she didn’t take action on it the moment it arrived it would pass her and go to someone else.

I worry about this sometimes, when I don’t take action, if this thing has passed on to someone else and I am forever on the back foot in my lethargy.

So I’ve decided that I need to starting carving my life around creativity more. That probably means one less coffee out and a few more hours spent alone letting the feathers settle and searching out the words or images that give it .

And here enters this blog . 
Something that I let swim on the web, something that I commit to.
Whether the winged creature visits me or not.
Perhaps this will be a discipline that gives me ownership over this creature.

Here is my first entry, on a glum day where creativity isn’t crawling under my skin but I still want to usher it in regardless.

Heres to the first and hopefully not the last entry

and welcome to my ridiculous mindless banter.

Following this there may be anything from a favourite photo to poetry entries.

Who knows.

But you are welcome to pop in and out as you please and maybe you will identify with some of my ramblings or perhaps you will have some sage advice to give me along the way.

If you made it this far through, 

thank you