Concentration

Since the holidays, the same holidays I don’t celebrate, began I’ve found myself busied by the giving of tours, purchasing clothes and presents for upcoming birthdays, and generally being lazy. It’s infuriating and lacking the structure that made having a job in an office so much easier.
So, I sit here on the train, right now, riding down to exit at Roosevelt and walk to the Shedd Aquarium. The train is full of the quiet and obligatory loud, the earbudded and the conversational, those on their way to work and those with a day off to enjoy themselves, like me. At least that’s the perception I give off. I haven’t worked in over a month and really wish I could find some structure.

I promised myself several times that I’d be fine, that I’d find the time and have things ready for clients and to present to any artists I meet, but that just hasn’t been the case.

It’s easy to just complain about it too. Moan about how life is hard and times are tough, but that’s all a lie; mostly.

Motivation’s not always easy to find. It usually doesn’t fall into your lap and tell you what it is. Usually it’s something found through failing, like happiness and bliss. I guess there’s a parallel in that somewhere. I love to write, the act of creating a story to entertain people fills me with an exhilaration I’ve never felt anywhere else, but find it difficult to bring myself to do it.

If only I could bottle it and leave if on my desk…or a framed picture. Yeah, that’ll work.