For all those New Years Resolutions never kept, goals never achieved and boxes never ticked...
Because I put things off. I procrastinate. I talk myself out of things. I over think. I under accomplish. Sometimes there's reasons... well, there's always reasons, but they're very rarely significant.
I signed up for The Sketchbook Project, I logged into NaNoWriMo (for the first time in three years) and promptly added it to my bookmark bar, I made phone calls, I entered competitions, and I completed chores.
And I'm re-designing my blogs.
I've been blogging (on other blogs and spaces) for years. It's an unrestrained place where I vent my woes and let slip my secrets.
When I was a few months pregnant (and reading more online than I had before) I vowed I wouldn't turn into a Mummy Blogger and that I'd keep this space (cue tumbleweeds and crickets) as a sanctuary away from the dirty dishes and sticky hands of my real life; a place for my creativity to revel late at night when the house is still and my music's blaring through my Skullcandy headphones.
But this last week I've re-evaluated who I am. I'm a mum now, and that defines me... and I like that it defines me.
Every time I sit for a moment, with the keyboard on my knees, I want to write about who I am, not just that little skull-eyed artistic piece of me.
Because creativity permeates through my every waking moment, and beyond all other dreams and goals I strive for, I want my life, our life, to be filled with wild imaginings, with unruly daydreams and, as always, with a little dark ink.
Last week I woke up and decided I was going to change.
I made myself a cup of coffee and I wrote a list.
Because I put things off. I procrastinate. I talk myself out of things. I over think. I under accomplish. Sometimes there's reasons... well, there's always reasons, but they're very rarely significant.
I signed up for The Sketchbook Project, I logged into NaNoWriMo (for the first time in three years) and promptly added it to my bookmark bar, I made phone calls, I entered competitions, and I completed chores.
And I'm re-designing my blogs.
I've been blogging (on other blogs and spaces) for years. It's an unrestrained place where I vent my woes and let slip my secrets.
When I was a few months pregnant (and reading more online than I had before) I vowed I wouldn't turn into a Mummy Blogger and that I'd keep this space (cue tumbleweeds and crickets) as a sanctuary away from the dirty dishes and sticky hands of my real life; a place for my creativity to revel late at night when the house is still and my music's blaring through my Skullcandy headphones.
But this last week I've re-evaluated who I am. I'm a mum now, and that defines me... and I like that it defines me.
Every time I sit for a moment, with the keyboard on my knees, I want to write about who I am, not just that little skull-eyed artistic piece of me.
Because creativity permeates through my every waking moment, and beyond all other dreams and goals I strive for, I want my life, our life, to be filled with wild imaginings, with unruly daydreams and, as always, with a little dark ink.
