Dear reader,

I completely fell off of my writing flow and I can feel it in my bones. I see why they say you need to write every day, even if it’s just a little. Once you start back you can feel new creaks in your fingertips, and a fog will settle like a blinding smoke over your crown. I admire real writers who do follow this rule of writing every single day because I know many of them also have kids, bills, and maybe even other jobs. Somedays writing is a gift and a healer, while other days it can feel completely inappropriate in some unexplainable way. Like, why would I write about my little world when there really hasn’t been much going on? Should I talk about grocery shopping and how I still need a vacation? Who wants to read this when they could easily read something else? Like so many artists my mind tends to veer right back into the lane that is worn, clear, and familiar. Like a whack a mole it’s there again, this same sentiment that plagues every creative person with any sense of awareness. Two words that can just squash it all: “who cares”.

The reason we create though is because we care deeply, of course. We care so much that it’s often an overwhelming swell. This is also why artists, writers, musicians, etc. will spend time in total isolation focusing on their work. They will leave their family, environment, and turn away from their regular routines. In the 70s they would turn off the TV, and unplug the phone. Now you need to disengage with at least 6-8 different devices and maybe even get one of those timed lockboxes (because let’s face it, we are ill). All this just so that our brain can operate at full capacity, and our soul’s mumblings can be heard again. Sometimes I get a taste of this when my wonderful mother in law, aka my son’s bff, takes him to her house for a few days. I am keenly aware of how fortunate I am to have this type of break because so many parents out there don’t. I feel #blessed that our son has a bond with another person besides us that he fully trusts, and that he packs his bags for these little trips with pure excitement. He’s on one of his little vacations right now, and I feel like after two full days of wondering what to do with myself, I just now finally sat down to write. I can also thank my husband for getting me out of a rut and suggesting we actually do something fun today. We got breakfast and went to the art museum. Two things that we used to do without thinking and now is such a special, and beloved experience. I’ve always had a hard time allowing myself a break, but with things how they’ve been, it’s become even more challenging to let go.

For the past 5 weeks I have once again been diving deep into resume writing, portfolio tweaking, skill upgrading, project dabbling, and LinkedIn fine tuning (god help me). The process of trying to find design work in this day in age can feel quite disheartening for someone like me who’s been working for themselves for over a decade. Companies get hundreds of applications in a day now with the click of a button. While I’ve been developing my skills over the years in the exact ways I’ve wanted to, so many others have been developing theirs according to industry standards. To say the competition is overwhelming me would be an understatement.

Business has been slow, and orders have gone down to a small trickle; something I worried might happen after relaunching. I suppose it would be an obvious side effect of announcing I’m closing, and then re-opening a year later. Also, it’s summertime. I currently have no marketing strategy, and I have grown to detest promoting on Instagram unless it’s related to my band’s music. My goal to take on new types of design work have been happening, thankfully, but the pay hasn’t been enough to make ends meet. I’m not sure why I’m writing about this except only to say that things aren’t always simple and straight forward. What may look like someone having things figured out can also be evidence of them falling a part a little.

I have spent most of my life claiming I know what I’m doing and that I don’t need extra help. Which as a kid and teenager may have protected me. As the years have gone on I’ve continued to work this pattern of self-reliance for all it’s worth, and for the longest time, without noticing its quiet implications. Having a reputation for being self-motivated and resourceful isn’t a bad thing, but it does get complicated when all of a sudden you’re not. It can feel deeply painful when I feel lost and no one seems to believe me. It gets hard when I just want to have a “fuck it” sort of night out with some girlfriends, but instead I only get asked to get coffee so someone can pick my brain. While I do find great joy in talking shop and helping others connect the dots on their own projects, I’ve too often run into this moment when I deeply needed just a regular old fashioned friendship, only to be asked if I could help them with xy or z. It’s been the source of many promising and ultimately failed relationships at this point. 100% because I fell back into the old pattern; thinking the only way I can be loved and accepted is by being useful.

The irony of applying for work is that it sort of requires us to tap into this pattern, which is why it feels so draining. Even while emotionally detaching from outcomes, the act of writing the same kind of words about ourselves over and over again inevitably just feels bad. While I’m in the process of evolving out of an old version of myself I am also having to harp on the evidence of that person a little longer. I may be doing a little better with my personal relationship boundaries at this point in my life, but I’m finding myself newly fixated on what value I have to offer as a professional; piling on new types of projects so that I can build my toolbox for attracting others out there in the “real world”.

Life is ridiculous, I tell you.

I have my little bit of extra freedom this week and I am trying to fill the cup. Stepping away from my computer seemed to really do me some good so I may do that again. Today was the art museum, tomorrow who knows. Maybe I’ll go find some woods and walk in them. I could break out some paper and a good ink pen. Letting go of control has never been easy either, probably why I seem so self-reliant. This old millennial has never been great at taking a break, but at this point in the year, I would gladly welcome a lucky one.

Currently…

Reading:

The Third Perspective: A transformative guide to brave communication for the modern world, by Africa Brooks. It’s still too early for me to write a real review here as I’m just diving into it, but so far I’m feeling grateful that this book exists. If you’re like me then you might stay up at night fretting about how the age of digital voyeurism is taking a harsh toll on creativity, honest communication, true human connection, and more consequences that I can’t pinpoint but I can certainly feel. This book offers exercises and a method for breaking out of the self-censorship spell that I feel so many of us have fallen into, whether it’s consciously or not. More to say once I’ve finished.

Listening:

The Babies

Golden Apples

Verbena

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