Morning pages: 7 out of 7. I function better when I do them, although I have needed to re-integrate traditional meditation practices along with it to maintain the full benefit of a calm mind.
Artist’s Date: sort of. I was broke so I spent a day fan-ficting.
Walk: I honestly don’t remember, but I think I didn’t. It was chilly last week and I am having a walking shoes crisis.
My camera died a death by falling, so I won’t have a new one until May. I see this as a bit of a setback. The sketching assignment is hard for me and I can’t say I really like it. Sketching is something I do when I’m stuck, or when I have an interesting and easy to illustrate dream. It feels awkward and unnatural to have a sketch pad everywhere I go. That said, I’m going to take a crack at sketching in the park in the next weekend or so. I’m passing the anniversary of my father’s death tomorrow, and I really don’t know how I’m going to be when that happens. My family is as always in times of crisis conspicuously absent, somehow convincing themselves that because my feelings don’t count I can’t possibly be experiencing the same pain they are. Any improvement in my family relationships have been utterly lost in the wake of my father’s death, and he is to blame for a good chunk of that. A certain ungracious pathological need to lie to me from the remaining living members has also done very little to help with that. 😦
I am making headway in completely separating my family from my creative self. I think of them every day. I miss them every day, even though they’re shits and I’m angry with them. I want to get to the point where I give them as little thought as they give me: besides, I don’t have any risk of public embarrassment when I don’t know how my family is. No one here knows them because they’ve never visited me, despite taking much longer trips to Ohio. *shrug* I’m drawing on Sinfest Buddha here, for a certain good-natured detachment. I’ll get there. I’ve amazed myself before with what I can do.