the project is blossoming. i'm fairly settled on the topic/tone, a format is emerging, and i've found a good voice.
i've learned to pace myself. i can get really excited about something only to wind up really burned out. i remind myself that i am crafting something, painting a very particular picture. none of the books i love were kicked out in a month just because.
it will be finished when it's finished, and winter is a fantastic time for gestation.
there is no rush.
this is the part of the game where i congratulate myself for holding on to bits of "nothing" writing, even when i have no clue where it's going to go and it bugs the organizer in me. 'cause this bit of nothing is surely turning into something.
above all: i am grateful.
i thought about working tonight, but i realize i need to deal with some messages from last night, and get into my evening journaling.
plus it's the first full day of my moon cycle, and when that falls on a weekday, i try to take the evening to decompress. getting too cerebral wouldn't be comfortable.
onward and upward...
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