i've been up for hours...pacing the deck...taking care of the usual morning stuff - feeding animals, letting animals in and out and in and out...and trying to come to terms with some things that have brewed stronger than my coffee. an old aquaintance has been living here as a guest for some time now, and it really truly is time that they leave. but how to make that happen without destroying the good parts that they bring to life? for every yin there is yang...every seemingly destructive thing has a part of it that is good and needed...you hate getting a shot, but it provides protection against disease...that type of thing but deeper. i have stared down depression and come to an agreement with her. i have worked around chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia. i have come to terms, for the most part, with my changing middle-aged body and cut myself some slack in the Barbie department. but my long-term houseguest is much more deeply entrenched i suspect: fear. and time and again she has shown herself to be a liar...holding up the magnifying glass to show a pouncing lion, when it's really a cuddly kitten. fear does have super-powers though. i look around my studio, or visit friends, and see my artwork and am astonished sometimes that it's from my hand. i remember being in the moment that i created it...the zone..the blissful moments when the divine inspiration flowed. and now i have 3 incredible opportunities presented to me...and the concentration and decision-making and flow of grace - poof. since i KNOW i can do it, and would normally have finished these pieces in a snap, i had to step back and ask myself why not now. a little fear - a little edge - is good. it's a great motivator. but once it gets stuck on a hamster wheel in your gut, it has the power to stop you cold. and that's where i am. i have ideas swirling in my brain. i yell Pick One...just Pick One. plan the work and work the plan. but as i begin on one, i fear it won't be good enough or say enough or convey what i hoped or look amatuerish or...the list is endless. just to finish anything right now would be a major undertaking. perhaps the problem is that i've spent every waking spare moment (and a few on the doze) in the studio...staring at these half-hearted half-started projects. perhaps i need sensory input of other sorts in order to channel them through my vision. perhaps i need to cut through the mess that keeps whispering that no good deed goes unpunished...that the more i want something, the more unattainable it will become...coming closer each time to the goal, only to have the rug pulled out...the charlie brown football syndrome, i call it. did he ever learn? every time lucy held that football, he'd get running up to kick it and blammo - she'd pull it away at the last second and he'd be flat on the ground again. but i guess the lesson is that he did indeed keep running up to that football. if Charles Schulz was alive in front of me today, i would ask him to Just Once let charlie brown kick the fuck out of that pigskin and launch it through the goalposts touchdown game over he won. just to break this evil spell for the rest of us. so i apologize if it sounds like i'm whining...i'm not. and i don't feel like a victim, and am not looking for pity. i'm just working it out here with my fingers on the keyboard. both of them, having never learned to type properly. i don't know if it's a lack of...or too much of. i suspect too much of. i have ideas galore...enough to fill an etsy store - buy one! i see the finished piece in my mind. but to start means a committment to an idea and a process and what if? i repeat a mantra I Am Capable Of This as i pace the deck, once again scaring the neighbors...i ritualize my studio experience with a particular song, and some incense...i stare at my art supplies and threaten to throw them from the second floor windows and use that space for a nice recliner and plasma tv. and invariably they hear this and cackle back at me. i feel guilty sitting at the computer as it takes time from the studio. i get in studio-mode and suddenly remember i never called gail back to explain that the one-second call from my mother ended up a full drama and i didn't think 11pm was an appropriate time to re-call so i better shoot her an email to tell her so she doesn't think i'm an ass. i know though, come monday morning at 6:15am when the alarm goes off, i will have creativity and urges coarsing through me like St Elmo's fire. and as the clocks tick on the delivery dates for these projects, i am becoming more landlocked. send the coast guard. oy...enough introspection. any deeper inside and i'll turn inside out..oooo now there's an idea for a sculpture. and by the way...you may have noticed a lot more typos, and i apologize...this new computer has a spanky keyboard with the number pad on the right-hand side, and it just screws up my orientation. i am tired of backspacing, so if spellcheck doesn't catch it, i just don't care anymore. i realize that to the writers out there this is akin to petting a cat against the grain of fur growth, but cut me slack here. ok - back to pacing. L.