Ugh.

Shitty weather this morning. The train is more crowded - a coincidence or have more people sought to avoid the downpour? I found myself sketching briefly yesterday as I waited to meet my wife. It was quick, it was vague, but the quick flurry of marks on the page gave me a lift.

Painting after work always seems harder to justify - like I'm going through the motions, and not really producing my best stuff. So this week is unproductive - a bad thing I would suggest.

The rain is battering what is left of night outside. Though I know the days are getting longer it still feels like the night is thicker at the moment; I think this is because it bookends my day at the moment, it feels more present to me. The lost mornings are replaced by an eagerness to get to the end of the shift and tick off another day. 

The sun rises with potential however, as a project arrived through the post last night. Stories to read and illustrate - something to sink my teeth into. And next week sees a return to normal patterns. I hold my breath for this week and tightly cross my fingers, looking forward to the opportunity to read and doodle ideas, before finalising my submissions. 

It's not that my mind stops working or trying to create, it's just that without the art to focus it I drift towards systems and structures, and ways of doing things better. This is not where I want to go - I can, but it's a cul de sac, and once in there it is harder to escape. Before you know it, what is not important to you becomes vital to the pattern of your day. I want to create new worlds, people and situations - not protocols, increased efficiency and behaviours.

With this reminder ringing in my ears I go forth to play my part, but already ideas for images flicker behind my eyes.