creative

At this very moment outside of our living room windows most of the world on the hill below us is asleep.  There are not too many windows alighted with the glow of vigilance and it is so quiet that I can hear the distant sounds of cars on the freeway.  Most nights Leif and I are tucked away in our dreams long before the majority of everyone else is around here but as I am typing this the clock icon on my computer is telling me it is Fri 1:52 AM. It is peaceful, probably one of the few times in Los Angeles it is like this.

I've been feeling listless as of late, so I'm not sure if tonight's bought of insomnia is anxiety or boredom.  Yesterday I spent most of the afternoon, it was my first day on maternity leave, sitting on the couch wondering what to do with myself.  There were plenty of things I could have done but very few of those things actually were accomplished.  I could use the fact that I am pregnant as an excuse but the truth is I've never been much of a self-motivator, unless we are talking about academics.  My inner nerd has never been satisfied with academic mediocrity.  Hence the too many degrees, the large amount of academic debt from attending a big-name university, and ultimately a profession that I just don't like that much. But hey, at least I have job security and for a pragmatist such as myself that does count for something.

Anyway, once upon a time I used to be a creative person.  Now I am most decidedly not a creative person.  I have plenty of things tucked away in drawers to use to be creative; paints, canvases, inks, pencils, glue, pencils...You name the art supply and I have probably collected it over the years.  They were all available to me yesterday but they went unused and continued to gather dust as they have been for the last four or five years. The last thing I brought out my acrylics for was to paint George's "picture."

I simply do not often have ideas in my head that I find worthy of transforming from vapor into something tangible.  Even writing here, which has been the closest thing to a creative outlet that I have, I find that I am mostly only motivated (or inspired) when the sadness of missing George is too overwhelming to keep to myself anymore.  The best things I've written, and when I say best I use the term loosely, have all come from a place of intense loneliness and longing.  When those feelings wane so does my ability to write anything that I find all that interesting.  I write for myself but much of the time I don't write what I wish I had the ability to, speaking of both the ability talent-wise and freedom-wise.  Which is one of the reasons I've contemplated closing up shop here on numerous occasions.

The icon on my computer is now telling me it is Fri 3:05 AM and it has taken me an hour to write four paragraphs.

Forget it.
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Sat 5:14 AM

I've come to a conclusion of sorts. Until this baby comes, which could be as soon as tonight or as far away as August 16th, I am going to do my best to do something creative everyday.  I can write, I can paint, I can take photographs...whatever, but I've got to do something everyday that is not normal routine for me.

We will see how this goes but for now here is a time lapse video Leif made of the view from our living room window at night.

Time Lapse View from .daily.amos. on Vimeo.