I'll walk from here

Week 3 was a bust. Aggravatingly non-productive, non-inspiring. I found it much easier to read about inspiration than actually sit down and nourish my own. I stopped short of organizing my pencil pot, tho' so there's some hope.

Getting creativity back into my life seems to come in fits and starts. I felt like I'd established some momentum and then all of a sudden it's 5pm and, although, the laundry and dishes are finished, I've not much to show for rekindling flair and creativity in my life. I suspect it's like a muscle that has to be constantly used in order to stay fit and able. Of course, part of working out is also for some hoped for yet maybe elusive improvement. And the same for writing or drawing or playing the guitar, I have to make the time to both maintain and improve.

Not all was a complete loss, however. I'm still working on my San Antonio: Blue Source article for Oxford American. Not that I've been accepted nor have I even submitted but you can't submit until you have something to send. So, I'm still working through ideas on that.

I'm also working on a book about marketing/sales for small businesses (primarily in the foodie space). My partner and I have worked in a variety of different roles and for all sorts of companies: some good, some perplexing, some I still bear the scars from and thought it would be great to share what we know about marketing/sales with companies trying to do good.

For Week 4: I've got big plans and have already made some progress. Provided I ignore the laundry, and the dog hair (from two dogs blowing their coats), I should have a little more to show/share next week.

It's been a handful of weeks since I was laid off, and I'm slowly beginning to figure out what I want to do next. This has been slightly hindered by the fact that I'm having to confront my own biases and bluffs. Perspective is amazing in both drawing and life. You can feel one way about a situation and feel confident that you would react a certain way and then when confronted by that situation have to accept you'd rather be drinking margaritas in the sun.

So, as I work through and untangle honestly my desires for Plan B from my need to impress or to achieve a goal, whose posts I'll continue to move, here are some tortured attempts at perspective.

While in San Antonio, I stayed at this cute B&B that had a fabulous balcony, which was inconveniently only accessible via a very large window. Not a door. A window. But contorting myself to fit through the window was worth it. We overlooked gorgeous Live Oaks bending and twisting into living canopies, and enjoyed the lights that had been woven into every branch, frond or green living thing in the garden behind.

Here are a couple of sketches. One of our neighbor's balcony; the other is of a Live Oak stretching and curling into various shapes.