Can I Go Where You Go?

Incredibly in love with writing lately. I am working on a new Huge Toy Conglomerate series, which is a fine job. Truly. But also, it's a job. We are in post for the podcast, which is a more than fine job! But also a job! I am grateful and still spend all my time in the google docs and editing software daydreaming about the newest play I am writing, my thriller series, essays--too many to keep track of.

I don't want to do anything else. I want to sit alone for 365 days to get it all out. She says songs arrive to her on a glittery cloud. I admire how even her process is a symbolism of her femme power. It emboldens me to step into mine. And I do.

The thing is happening when I get this way, where I begin seeing people as an obstacle. A maze to wander before I arrive at my treasured working time. But I know I know I have learned I have learned I can't do that. I become grey and insane, feverish and hurt. So I make plans with friends as preventative medicine. I grumble putting on my shoes. Last night I met up with an old friend on a couch-y patio. Within twenty minutes I felt my wire brain start to uncrinkle. This has been a big year for old friends. They mean so much to me, it turns out. Folks who have been there, even if in the nosebleeds, for all the eras. I worried we wouldn't have enough to talk about, but a blinked and realized I was running late for my friend's standup show. I sat alone at the back right high top munching a flatbread and laughing loud and proud. She was incredible! The excitement I felt, watching a shooting star, jetted me all the way home.

I had such a beautiful day Wednesday too. Morning dance, coffee with my writers' group, working diligently, an afternoon picket shift with two gals who clicked. Monday I went to the beach and got good news. Tuesday I saw a different friend's remarkable show at ___, went down the street after with an improv guy from ten years ago. I've felt so lonely most of my artist career. A psychic told me last week, I am meant to do things alone. She is right. We can only be the artists we are.