Lost my voice due to a bad cough and overwork and stress. Last weekend I had flu. This weekend I have silence. Better, in a way, because at least I'll get to paint, perhaps. I must paint. Write. Make something. Make magic. Make my amends to the wildness.
Funds are really low. But since I'm sick I have to stay at home. I need to be in the studio anyway. It'll be too much trouble to carry around all the paints. And I also want to try a piece bigger than a notebook.
Reading slot secured -- I'm going to catch up on my Goodreads target yet. Also reading for research of a sort. I want to make some radical changes on my freelance setup. And if there's a decent interesting job in a library or museum out there I'm open for employment.
I want to go back and review the basics and beginnings of this path I refuse to give up. Tweak a few things. Resurrect some ideas and practice. Have better plans to break later on. Be better at breaking rules and changing the game. Forget the game. This is not about winning. This is about living, and being true. It is about falling in love. Again and again. Fall and fail. Fall and fail better. Be brave. Love anyway.