I come to you tonight when I should be drawing. I keep talking about how I should be working on my sketchbook, and I've decided that I'm going to stop talking about it and either do it or not do it. I've also decided to deepen my resolve by talking to you about it.
For now, I'm listening to Patty Griffin. If her music was a religion I would have converted about a month ago.
I am chomping at the reins, my friends, and as soon as they break I will lurch forward, stop cold, look around in bewilderment, and frantically try to put them back on so I can pull on them again. It's funny how I know that and cannot keep from chomping anyway. I feel good, though - I can tell that my patterned exam-week apathy is not going to generalize to any area beside academics. I'll have a couple of days to deal.
I am so excited for the future, but as much as I didn't want it to happen I will be leaving a part of myself here. It's like editing. You write your first draft and you're pretty happy with it, you know? It's not great, but it communicates what you want it to and the more you read it, the more comfortable you are with it. Then, it comes back with scribbles and marks everywhere and you cut, paste, and shift around until the same piece is almost unrecognizable. A distant cousin to the first, maybe. And again, you're satisfied. It's good. But there are more marks and notes when it returns to you. Entire paragraphs get deleted, and new ones added. Ideas nixed, connections created. And it flows even better than you could have ever imagined when you sat down to write the first draft.
Carving! Life and editing are both like wood-carving. That's what I was trying to say.
Hooray for stacked metaphors : ).
I'm going to go draw now.
