From my journal, winter 2010:
Waking up, the voice starts small and clear. "I will draw today." The light outside is blue and waxing. The first pale on the horizon and chatter edges in on the voice - "but first I'll run the dog." And then - "but if I'm sick? My brother! This job today..." The chatter crowds in, the light in my room falls on the back wall. My dog paces in to ask me something quiet and sweet but not about drawing. The house needs cleaning. The bills, the truck, the laundry. The light and chatter mount and by 8:30 the day is much to noisy to stay asleep. There's one thought I have that would quiet the rest down, but all the rest, drawing too. This is how my day before I know it goes from a single, clear, creative thought to a buzz of worry that sends me in a million directions.
Ian said: turning into a best buy manager is a terrible thing to happen to a kid.
This blog is a space for nascent ideas, a catalyst to commit to saying something regardless of whether the thought is fully formed.
