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Language Log

Sunday, Feb. 06, 2011 - 11:42 a.m.

A few of my FB friends who have had babies this past year are getting back to work. My mother in law forwarded me an email with these pictures by a photographer, where she had taken her sleeping baby and arranged elaborate scenes around her. Look! Other artists keep and find outlets for their creativity with small babies around!
She just thought I would enjoy it; all it did, I'm afraid, was send me into a pit of despair.

No, no, not a pit of despair. More of a ditch of despair.

I just feel like such a failure. Others seem to manage much more than me. Maintaining creativity and self discipline and drive enough to do more than one thing at a time. I have nothing interesting to say artistically, and no energy to say it even if I had 'it'.

Yes, yes, I know: it's temporary, what I'm doing is more important, I'm falling victim to the impossible demands the modern world makes on women. Possibly, more optimistically, I do actually have interesting things to say artistically, I just haven't worked through the hard parts. I know all that. Nevertheless. I don't feel like I'm being my whole self, and that makes me very unhappy. The worst is that this semester has been a bit better in terms of J being able to take Spigotbottom for more time. But I can't even make use of that little bit of time, because I got nothin. I try something new now and then, but it fails to catch on with me. And I can't stay enthusiastic about the jewelry because last year was such a flop. I'm demotivated and can't maintain the desire to even to a minimum.

I just want that feeling again-- the one I had in 2009 when I was in all the good shows-- soaking up the sun and complements while people occasionally handed me money. Sitting there having ideas about exciting things to try.

Even if I can remember those ideas, they ring hollow now.

Unfortunately, there's nothing else I really want to do. Other than be someone I'm not, apparently.

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