... What I Want to Be When I Grow Up
February has been an unusual month, it's colder, wetter and I've had a much more difficult time writing. I don't believe in writer's block so I've been writing each day regardless of how terrible I think the words I’m writing are, after all I can always edit later. While I've worked each day this month on my novel I haven't transcribed any of it, it's all in my notebooks sitting on my desk waiting for me to clear it of the clutter and get on with it. My only problem is I don't feel like clearing my desk. My evil twin the procrastinator is rearing her ugly head, so I've decided to cave into the evil procrastination for the next four days and get the other things on my to do list accomplished, my house is a wreck and last night while I was vacuuming up all the dirt my dogs bring in, I really noticed all the dirt smudges along the baseboards and so forth and I have the need to wash it all. Perhaps if I do a super clean through out the house I will feel ready to work again.
Lately I have found my interest, time and attention wants to be elsewhere and the where is my photography. I have no doubts about my writing and whether I am a writer. I am and I know that deep down, but and there's always a but isn't there. I am discovering new things about myself each day and at 36 I am finally figuring out what I want to be when I grow up. I'm finally letting go of the voices from my past that told me artists and writers couldn't make a living. More often these days people are asking me, ‘could you photograph my dog?’ and wonder of wonders they ask me how much I charge. I feel it in my bones that I could really make this dream of mine fly. I feel like I could really go from dream to reality and love doing it. It would give me the opportunity to interact with people, be with dogs and use the talent I've been given for photographing them. Doing that doesn't mean I won't write, I can't imagine not writing.
Last week after completing a project for the Greyhound rescue I do volunteer work for I realized deep down that even with the back and forth on the posters I enjoyed learning the software and even more I enjoyed working with the people. I felt an energy and excitement to get out and find dogs, new dogs to photograph. I wanted to work on photos sitting on my hard drive. Everywhere I've turned since completing the project something to do with photography is in my face. I dream about it when I sleep and when I look at my camera gear I feel guilty it's sitting there on my desk instead of the camera in my hands and plastered to my eye.
I have the drive and passion to do anything I set my mind too, I've proved that to myself the last few years with my writing. However something is missing in my writing that doesn't satisfy the artist in me. It's not about selling my work it's seeing it completed and having that feeling when looking at it that even though you know you took that photograph, you know it's better than average. I get that from my photography and not from my writing. I love writing and it fills part of my creative spirit, but not enough to satisfy me the way my photography does.
The next four days I am going to keep plugging away on my novel, have fun with my camera and focus most of my attention toward my house. I have baseboards to wash, carpets to vacuum, counters to wipe down and a desk to declutter. Once I take care of the house then maybe I'll be able to find a clear, focused approach to balancing my writing and photography. Which I'm sure my critique group would love.
Until next time good writing!