Friday, February 4, 2011

I stopped writing morning pages

It happened.

I stopped writing morning pages.

It could have something to do with the barfing.

And I think that had something to do with the burrito.

Which I think had something to do with the salsa.

Whatever it was, it stopped me doing morning pages.

I've spent (some of) the last three days with my journal open, pen poised above the page and nothing.



Nadda. Zip. Nothing.

All I could think to write was, "I want matzo ball soup" for three pages. What is it with being sick and craving broth?

I'm sure there is something I want to avoid by not writing them. Or perhaps, there is some inner wisdom that will come out that I just don't want to hear right now. Or perhaps I just get sick of writing morning pages and even sicker of writing them when I'm actually sick.

While I was deliberately not writing morning pages or laying in a sick stupor, I cleaned out drawers and closets (slowly) in order to get my life down to one suitcase so I can traipse around the world and live the life of a nomadic blogger.

Cleaning out my drawers and closets was like walking down an artist's memory lane.

A few highlights on my artistic path: 
  • Bookbinding: I found bookbinding supplies for that time I was into bookbinding.
Erin Zam, inspired this brief but lovely bookbinding fascination.
  • Scrapbooking: I found a ton of expensive and cheesy scrapbooking material.
 Crap booking. And what is with my hand? 
My hand doesn't look like that in real life.
  • Photography: I found old cameras and their electric cord accoutrements. 
 Why oh WHY did I print my photos? Now I have to deal with them.
  • Collage art: I found collage making supplies AKA bits of paper scraps that I thought would make for a great art piece one day. Newsflash: they didn't. 
 Except for this one. It turned out nice. Want it? It's yours. Email me.
  • Painting: I found a slew of painting supplies. I stuck to painting longer than most of my artistic pursuits. And I managed to sell a lot of them, which is pretty groovy. But now I'm left with a big pile of art supplies that simply won't fit in my suitcase. Shit.
My fave.
  • Writing: I found books on creativity, journal and pens galore. I settled on these two beauts: 

Find out why these rock here.
After all this searching for my artistic calling, I found it on July 26, 2010...
"This blog. This little online space I created is where I find my true artistic bliss. I write in my journal to figure out what to write here. I take photos to post here. I create videos to share them here. I find links and YouTube bits and pieces to add color to my posts. In my year-long project to discover my calling and blog about it, it's the blog that became my calling."
It's weird to quote yourself. 


Now I've realized that all I need to pursue my true artistic calling is:
  1. my journal
  2. a pen
  3. a camera
  4. a laptop
  5. an internet connection
Five items that will easily fit in my suitcase. And once I get rid of the rest I can high-tail it out of here to begin my nomadic blogging lifestyle... hopefully by then I'll feel like writing morning pages again.


  1. And I am so happy you found your calling!!!!
    ...I can't wait to share in the adventures that you and your suitcase will embark!!
    And wouldn't you know it? In the midst of reading your calling...I found mine also. Ultimate pay-it-forward! Thanks!

  2. Excellent. I still maintain this whole morning pages thing was eating into your coffee time. Enough already.

    Nice highlights, though... I remember them all well. Very good work.

  3. ...I hope you don't get everything together and leave before Feb 13th as I'm back in LA from that night! So I'll be seeing you before long I hope. :D xo

  4. Your hands are much nicer in real life...

    I'm glad we all get to benefit from your ultimate choice in artistry. It would have been much harder to follow you if you were a nomadic shipbuilder or something else non-one-suitcase-based.


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