Running on Empty

Now that I've made it to a year, there's an additional layer of desire to take a break from this project. I feel kind of like I've earned it. What's the harm, right?

On the other hand, I'm worried what would happen if I stopped. I'm not that good at picking things back up again. (I have a miniature on my painting desk that I stopped months ago, half-way done, that I just get depressed looking at.) I also feel like this is the only good outlet I have in my life right now. I spend most of my time at a less-than-satisfactory job or watching way more television that I traditionally have.

This five minutes is the one last piece of real discipline I have left that feels like it does anything for me.

But then there are the days like this one, which I've documented on many occasions before, that even this little bit of time and will is just another burden. So I consider again the idea of putting it down for a while. Nobody would blame me. There's nobody really keeping track but me.

Maybe I need to do something more. Bigger than this project. Something that feels less... Sisyphian? I am learning things. Every day is a tiny accomplishment. In the end, though, I don't feel that far from where I started.

It's days like this that the creativity is down but the desire to achieve something is up. These often appear to be inversely correlated. Big stories need structure, whether through planning, intuition, or just after-the-fact cleanup. Structure and imagination don't get along well in my head.

Is that why I run out of ideas on days like this?