[first take, one take, and nae editing]
It’s been one of those months.
The kind of month where good things are happening, but you wouldn’t call them great.
Where you realise it’s nearing an entire year since you’ve graduated from something incredible, and had no opportunity to harness the time that has flown past accordingly.
Partly because of some sore-loser dipshit who has gone out of their way to pursue their dark cloud status for twelve months and counting, and refuses to accept nobody wants them around.
Partly because the creatives you wanted to work with were stuck indoors, studying.
But mainly, probably, most definitely, because of yourself.
This isn’t the woes of the struggling artist, I promise, rather the words of person with a severe lack of self-belief lately. I haven’t been able to get the kind of purchase I’ve wanted for an entire year – no work put on, no outside interest, and an ideas tank that is more than bubbling over, but is facing an absolute incapability to put it to paper.
Sure, submitting to things is an interesting pass-time – a couple of longlists and a thorough redrafting session earlier in the year is about as much as I can brag – but that’s literally about it. And I’m tired.
I’m tired of the nothingness. I’m fed up of the stagnation. And I’m just mad I can’t make this dark cloud fuck off quicker.
I’m long past the point of anger, and swimming in the sea of annoyed. This dark cloud is nothing more than an unaware nuisance who cannot seem to grasp the concept of showing themselves the door and staying outside of it.
I had hoped that, at some point during the last twelve months, I’d have something to distract from the cloud’s tedium. The closest I’ve ever come to near full distraction would happen in two week spurts – the redrafting, redecoration, a holiday, and the occasional bit of work. The problem is that they never last.
As of a month ago, the spurt reappeared and seems to be lasting longer. I have a one-day stage managing gig with Oxjam this weekend, classes for trying out aerial silks are up again, and three weeks ago I joined a playwright’s group. That last one is probably the most important of the three (it would have been four, but the search for choirs is proving tricky). I haven’t written anything for over a year, and my redrafts are about as good as they’re going to get until they’re in someone’s hands. But…
Monday past gave me a little bit of hope for an idea that’s been floating around for a while, and there’s a scratch night coming up that could be fun to submit to. A flicker of hope is better than none…