I was up this morning at 2:45 (til 5:30–ain’t being preggo fun?) reading a book my brother-in-law Ben Cowan lent me at Christmas. It’s called Art and Fear, and pretty much touches on all the major reasons I didn’t write consistently for the last 14 years. There’s the lie that “real” art flows easily out of the artist without practice and hard work, the fear of rejection, the fear of success and the long slide of art into craft, the total lack of support for writers/artists once they leave school and have no more assignments or shows or papers or audience, and the temptation to pursue technical excellence instead of the uncertainty of an artistic form that doesn’t always result in concrete pats on the back. I know I LOVE concrete pats on the back. How about you? It’s really a wonder anyone doesn’t quit.
I recently also read a great book called The Artist’s Way, also lent to me by a caring friend, and that helped me work through some junk that’s blocked me for years. Did I mention the universe has been rearranging itself to encourage me to write lately? Thanks, everyone, for the support. I’m done quitting. Feel free to remind me of that when the kiddo arrives and I have loads more excuses to do busy work instead of my life’s work.
How are you finding your life’s work in the midst of the head games, busyness, and uncertainty? Where do you go to get unstuck? Tell me your story.