I got everything done today except my morning pages. I think I’m just going to have to get up earlier to do them. I also decided tonight that I am emphatically NOT going to nag Jeff to do his. Either he does or he doesn’t, but either way, it’s up to him to make it happen.
So what am I on about? Jeff and I, along with a very old friend of mine, are working through Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way.” The book is a twelve-week course that’s intended to help you access your spiritual, creative self under all the layers of “I’m-not-good-enough-It’s-not-practical-I-don’t-have-time-Insert-your-reason(excuse)-here” that keep you from creating whatever it is you’re called to create. In my case, it’s writing. For Jeff, it’s… I dunno. I asked him last night if he wanted to work with jewelry, but he said no, because he doesn’t have a place to leave stuff out when he’s done working. But again, I’m not taking responsibility for Jeff’s experience, beyond asking him initially if he wanted to do it. So there. Codependent Monica is not making an appearance.
So morning pages are basically three pages of stream-of-consciousness writing, in longhand, which I despise. It’s not supposed to be anything other than getting crap out on paper so it doesn’t get in your way the rest of the day. It’s one of the requirements for the course — they are to be done everyday. It’s sad that on day two I’ve already slagged off. But I won’t tomorrow.
The other thing required is a weekly artist date, where I do something on my own that feeds my inner artist. So I’m looking forward to that. I think taking walks, visiting cool shops and museums, but most especially, finding places to people-watch, will be on my agenda. Watching people always gives me good ideas. I get the fascination from my Grandpa Rider, I think. He used to like to sit and watch people whenever we were in a crowded place, like a mall, or Fisherman’s Wharf.
I didn’t subject you to this explanation, by the way, just to torture you. I also wanted to explain what the hell I might be bitching about if I complain about morning pages, or whatever. So now ya know.