Making and sharing creative work often feels like treading water to me. As if I’m working pretty hard just to stay afloat. I know that my end goal should be swimming, but I’m not really sure where I should swim to. So, I just float. I conserve my energy as best I can and poke my hand into the air, waving. That feels like the minimum requirement: let people know that I’m here. It also helps me to feel like I’m doing OK, and that I’ll figure it out soon. There’s no need to panic.
But, every now and again, I start to sink. The ocean seems much larger than it did, and I get tired. Before I know it, I’m not waving but drowning. I stopped waving — and began drowning — a while ago. On the limited occasions I’ve posted work recently I’ve been secretly hoping that someone would save me, or at least point me in the direction of the nearest shore. But, I know that’s not how the me-someone relationship works. I’m on my own. If I drown, I drown.
The only thing that’s been keeping me afloat recently is my next book. It’s a solid and real thing that I will be able to show people, and I’ve been clinging to it like driftwood. It’s helped me to gather the strength to fight my brain — or my mind, I forget which — and start waving again. So yes, you guessed it, this is one of my semi-regular “Hey Look, I’m Going To Start Drawing And Blogging More Again (I Promise)” Posts. It’s completely for my own benefit, but this is a reminder that I’m doing OK. I’ll figure it out soon. There’s no need to panic.
I’m not drowning, I’m waving.