Sunday, July 24th, 2011
I am an illustrator. Sometimes, I’m a writer. Even more so than when I’m composing an illustration. My creative life revolves around fantasy and that which is not real, but can look and feel real, if I’ve done my job well.
In the last few weeks, reality has been doing its best to hinder my preparing for a conference in 2 weeks that could make (well, at least boost) or nearly break my career. I say “nearly break” because the irrational fear that I’ll be laughed out of the place hovers just beyond my peripheral vision and the idea of that happening pokes at the place that believes I can do anything I set my mind to doing.
But the realities are these:
We will have to move. We don’t know when (60 days from X, x being at any given time.).
People will be intruding upon my work space, an extension of my mind, every Sunday.
I will very likely lose my studio downtown.
Phil is leaving for Canada on Monday. For 2 weeks.
We’ve begun the process of getting pre-approved for a mortgage loan as a group. That in itself is nerve-wracking, because I keep looking at what’s for sale and seeing the good properties we might be able to afford getting quickly plucked off the market. If I give up my studio, we have a little more financial wiggle room. The idea being that we make sure there’s sufficient yard space for me to make a studio out of a small shipping container or camper (I prefer the container idea.). If we are unable to buy a house, finding another suitable rental for all of us in a decent area will be a challenge.
I don’t handle excessive uncertainty, nor intrusion, very well. I need basic stability and a certain amount of privacy (we have respectful roomies.). We feel like we’ve just gotten settled, so as you might imagine, I’m a bundle of nerves right now. I’m so frazzled that I’m having even more trouble working than I was before the house went up for sale.
I am doing my best to take the days and tasks one at a time.
Hide the cookies and wish me luck.