Bubble bubble toil....
...you get the picture. I have just returned from a whirlwinded week. My head is percolating with ideas and things to do. For a moment (sidebar: I will now always think of Minnesota and Pangea whenever I say this statement or even hear the song, thank you Muriel) this morning I was sad.
Arriving home in the dark of night concealed and wrapped me in the still warm and fuzzy feelings I left Minneapolis with. I can do anything. I can write anything. I can perform everything. But as the early morning sunshine broke through the blinds and weaved its way between the fibers of the curtains, reality set in. I am home. My own bed, not quite as cozy as the Sheraton's was. Ok, ok, let's continue the morning practise I developed over the week. Hup-2-3-4. Let's do some Suzuki style plies. 10 count. 20 count. I can hear Izumi voice. Why-o, why-o. There is Linda. I can feel Dora's energy as she runs around during the warm-ups...the rest of class making oddly shaped circles.
Wait? What? Who am I kidding? I have to unpack. I have to clean and bring order to the house and its various states of cleanliness it is in (sidebar: I'm kind of a neat freak, so it was probably fine, but I needed to scrub something). Gotta wake up and drop my husband off at the Metro station. I get into my car, which is covered in a light layer of dust that shows the remnants of an light rain from earlier this week. The early morning ride. I return home, grab my computer and return to my routine from before the workshop. I start over-researching ideas and themes, I am lost down a deep deep Pinterest hole of oblivion. My computer crashes. It's noon already. I am still in my pajamas, the house is no cleaner, but thankfully after calls from family with happy wishes for me and tales of their recent adventures, I have found a renewed hope for where to go now.
Now a week later, it seems like Minneapolis was a lifetime ago What did I do? What did I learn? What was I excited to go and create? Darnit. Momentum lost again. Pinterest hole of despair here I come. Here, at home, I have a list of things I want to do, but fear has crept in again. Ideas for scripts and stories bounce around in my head. A zillion tabs are opened on my computer, each pointing to an idea or thought I'd like to try, a grant I'd like to write. Wait, how do you write a grant? Multi-tasking trying to be everything. What to do when you've discovered your life is hopeless. Mid-life crisis. I think that's what they call it. Figuring things out one tab at a time.
Wait? What? Who am I kidding? I have to unpack. I have to clean and bring order to the house and its various states of cleanliness it is in (sidebar: I'm kind of a neat freak, so it was probably fine, but I needed to scrub something). Gotta wake up and drop my husband off at the Metro station. I get into my car, which is covered in a light layer of dust that shows the remnants of an light rain from earlier this week. The early morning ride. I return home, grab my computer and return to my routine from before the workshop. I start over-researching ideas and themes, I am lost down a deep deep Pinterest hole of oblivion. My computer crashes. It's noon already. I am still in my pajamas, the house is no cleaner, but thankfully after calls from family with happy wishes for me and tales of their recent adventures, I have found a renewed hope for where to go now.
Now a week later, it seems like Minneapolis was a lifetime ago What did I do? What did I learn? What was I excited to go and create? Darnit. Momentum lost again. Pinterest hole of despair here I come. Here, at home, I have a list of things I want to do, but fear has crept in again. Ideas for scripts and stories bounce around in my head. A zillion tabs are opened on my computer, each pointing to an idea or thought I'd like to try, a grant I'd like to write. Wait, how do you write a grant? Multi-tasking trying to be everything. What to do when you've discovered your life is hopeless. Mid-life crisis. I think that's what they call it. Figuring things out one tab at a time.
