Update: Messy Days

Quarantine harbors this sort of aimless feeling, you know? I'm stuck between stasis and anti-stasis as Millicent Weems would put it, haha. The novel is coming along somewhat. I have about 80-90 pages out of my projected goal of a little over 200. I don't know if it's turning out to be quite what I wanted (which is not always a bad thing). Extensive rewrites were already foreseen, but I may need to step away from actually writing for the project and shift into just thinking about what I want it to be and what I'm comfortable with it becoming. I'm worried it's all becoming too complicated, which in itself is my complicated mental state making things more, well...complicated?

I've still been taking the time to work on poetry and short stories. Nothing all that serious, just stuff to sort of briefly snap a photo of this moment in life. Truth be told, creative motivation is incredibly hard to tap into right now, and I feel like something is wrong with me. But wait a second, what if I'm not crazy? What if I just don't have that many experiences to draw from? After all, I've pretty much only been exposed to NOTHING this entire time. The only thing I'd end up making after this is a terrible and less progressive version of Jeanne Dielman, which is basically a movie about a lady cleaning a house for 4 hours. I need a well established artist somewhere to validate these feelings of emptiness. Asking for a friend.

My final semester of college is approaching rapidly and as the days go by I've been finding myself just wanting to enjoy more and more of my down time. This is already frustrating, though, because I feel like all I've done these past few months is just dick around. There are no meaningful jobs to apply for, and everything I write that feels important to me just comes out feeling unspecial. A return to normalcy may be what I need, but why do I feel like all the time I'm spending is worthless? Half of the days I wake up feeling fine and content, and the other half, I wake up feeling like a waste if I'm not busy concocting The Circuitry Might 2 or something. That's not a real thing by the way. All I'm trying to say is that the second step in my writing journey might be harder than the first. How do I build off what I've done and grow as an artist? I could go on and on about the harrowing differences between this summer and last, but right now I feel like more life living needs to happen before I can create something truly honest and genuine like TCM. There is more work to be done, my friends.