unicorn

in

Being to find a rhythm to the day makes my creative work not my secret identity between bouts of househusbandry and life in general but my default, a less-segmented / compartmentalized way of getting through the day.

Current thinking is that a solution lies somewhere at the intersection of smart bulbs turning off in The Paintshop at certain times (EAT NOW), a defined endtime to the workday, and an increased effort at a.) letting go of my need for repeatability; b.) šŸ–•ing to guilt over doing what I want to do with my fucking time; and, c.) not getting bent out of shape over life breaking through the walls, those last remnants of a quarter-century past conservatory practice room guilt. Or, you know, me just eating when I'm hungry and doing what I need to do when I need to do it and coming back here to seek refuge in this temple to our lady of thankless calling. Saying fuck it, basically, and trusting myself that my natural rhythm will get shit done.

Have no walls ā€“ save for the essentials that keep the structure sound, perhaps? Less a fortress and more an open-air plan?

in

Were anyone on the Biden campaign to ask me ā€“ and they havenā€™t ā€“ how they should answer the ā€œare you doing better now than four years agoā€ question, Iā€™d proselytize building a site or daily newsletter that lays out exactly what was happening on this day four years ago every day until the election. Would be a far more beneficial use of my monthly campaign contribution than emails and texts from Joe and Jill and Kamala and Bill and Barack asking me for more money. Hell, Iā€™ll buy them the site to do it. Hit me up.

links/2024w12

in