People are telling me to chill, but I’m having a moment about turning 30
Friends have told me to go easy on myself. “It’s a busy time; you’ll get back to it soon.” I want to feel reassured, but I only feel an uneasiness that grows each day I don’t find time or energy to spend time with my work.
In which I worry I don’t know how to revise
At least half-finished paintings and crochet projects exist in my physical reality to remind me of their continued existence. It feels easier to accidentally leave writing to rot in whatever way data points decompose, which is to say never and sometimes all at once.
The Artist’s Way: Week 1 (or Notes from a letter of recommendation written on my behalf)
It’s a Monday night and I’m reading some of the most generous words ever written about me. It’s hard to avoid the fact that reading whole paragraphs about my writing feels self-indulgent and embarrassing. And if that’s not enough, I feel a sudden jolt of shame, like I’ve been scolded. Reprimanded.
Ten reasons I’m choosing to blog in the year 2025
I want to. And no part of that “want to” includes monetization, so who cares that blogging is dead, anyway.
