I awoke to the sound of blips and beeps.
The coffee maker’s automatic drip has finished it’s droning.
I am thankful for the auto setting on the machine.
It always wakes me unless, that is,
the smell of the Colombian grounds hits my nostrils first.
Walking through the dark house I set the flashlight on my 5S.
I make my way to the bathroom through the barrage of children toys.
Piss, wash, brush teeth, wash again.
I pour a cup of earthy, acidic coffee.
By the time I reach the studio door I will stumble on something,
A least, I will hit that one floorboard that always creaks out death and destruction.
Nothing – today will be a good day.
The studio is my safe space, it’s the place where I feel most free in all the world.
It is a small, confined space, but it’s mine.
This is where my mind wanders and gets lost in thought.
In here I am removed from all the world, yet its confines are within it.
I get to work and without hesitation, picking up where I left the day before.
Getting to it with due diligence is what has been established and trained
In my hands and mind day after day, year over year.
Work is work. I will put in my best effort today.
Ultimately, I work for me.
There’s no one to impress.
At the end of my time I know where I bore light, where I threw shade.
Getting out of your own way is the hardest skill to accomplish.
The stumbling blocks I put in my way only make it harder for the work to get done. Believe me, there is always work to be done.
Inspiration is fleeting at best and always a crutch.
It excuses you for not getting things done.
An hour this morning is worth two that may come this evening.
I’ll work, but there always comes the time to stop.
Rather, more like a pause.
I’ve grown over time to take full advantage of the pause.
Even if I’m not working, I’m always working it out.
I wash up, refresh the coffee, eat something, and head onto the day’s business.
I will enter the world, bringing with me salt and light.
I know that when I’m finished there is a secret, quiet place set apart from the world.