It is sometimes difficult for creative people to not compare themselves to other creative people. It really is like apples and oranges. No one does the things you do, exactly the way you do them. Nevertheless, time is spent looking at others and coveting their talent, position, money or free time. I have to remind myself constantly that what works for someone else, will likely not work for me. I will not be abel to draw that particular sword from that particular anvil, but there maybe another sword meant just for me. It is embarrassing admitting this to you guys, but despite its embarrassment, I imagine many of you feel the same way. We just have to do what we do, think about the work, and not worry about the “after”.
I’m still navigating my new situation and I hope those I’ve promised things to understand if I’m a little behind in my deliveries. I’ve had to make some decisions recently and I feel like more are coming. These decisions aren’t bad necessarily, they’re adult decisions for adults. Mostly it’s just me trying to figure out how I must carve up my time. Though things are slow going, they will be picking up steam in March, maybe even before, if I can get my ducks in a row. I have my fingers in a lot of metaphorical pies, and I’m in the process of figuring out which ones will go, and which will stay. The pies, I mean. The metaphorical ones. Victorian Cut-out Theatre is staying, so for the ten of you who may have been worried about that one, don’t. As laborious as it is, I enjoy doing it, it just takes time, so once I get rolling on the animation portion, it should be much easier. And anyway, this time I have backup . I don’t know if Walker’s Talkers will stay, or if it will morph into something else. I like vlogging, but I’m not sure I have the time to get as elaborate as I would like with it, and that includes developing topics to discuss. I have an idea for something that has the same format, but the spirit is different and I think it will be more fun for me. I do have a few Walker’s Talkers I’ve been dying to do, but after that, I may give it a rest in favor of something else. It may just continue like this, until I feel like I’m getting filled up artistically again and not just constantly drained like I feel right now. It’s not all the baby’s fault. Some of the stuff I was doing just isn’t doing it for me anymore*.
I am writing more than I have in a long time…
That’s not true. I’m writing more narratives that I have in a long time. For good or ill, my writing has never stopped. There is usually at least one “thing” a week escaping my keyboard to haunt the internet. However, most of those “things” are essays, blogs or reviews. I have been crafting narrative fiction in a few different formats over the past two weeks. The first one is a complete lark. Upon discovering a site called Inkle, I’ve become completely obsessed with trying my hand at a “Choose Your Own Adventure” story. It’s not completely finished, I have some editing to do, but it’s HERE if you want to take it for a spin. I’d love constructive criticism, please. I’ve learned a lot from this exercise and would like to try another one, putting these lessons to work. I really enjoyed myself working on it, even though it was a little slice of nonsense. This morning, I also wrote a piece of flash fiction for a contest. It’s not edited, but you will get to see it this week. I have to enter it before the end of the month, which is Friday. And there are more short stories and bugaboos happening, a few play scripts and more animation coming your way. So, if you like what I do, I hope you’ll stick around.
That’s about it for now. My son is in his own room now and we communicate with him via monitor. Or rather he communicates with us. If it sounds like he’s genuinely distressed, we go one room over and perform the same tasks as before. Not much else to report. He smiles now, which is huge, because up until they smile at you, with a real sense of recognition, it feels like you’re taking care of an very important, very rare, exotic plant. A plant that screams, expels waste and gazes upon you with cold indifference. He hasn’t even reached his final form yet.
*Thank you to those who understand. I am sincerely grateful for your support. You know who you are.