I’ve been feeling a kind of restlessness— one that’s mostly stayed away for awhile, so I’m not sure I recognize it exactly, but it feels familiar. The best thing for it is a renewed dedication to process and making.
I’ve been active, productive, but it’s been all maintenance, freelance work, and bits n bobs. I need to begin work on something beyond the practical, or day-to-day; beyond the whimsical. A different scale or depth.
An undertaking likely better suited to Winter, but there’s some time still. There’s always time, really; I just need to divest myself of idle procrastination, a hallmark of apathy | fear.
I think I have no ideas; never know what I’m meant for, so must remind myself that showing up is the first step. Doing rather than thinking, which I’ve been doing on a small scale, but in a rudderless way, no eyes to the horizon.