Wriggling out.

I'm reading The Artist's Way (Julia Cameron) on the recommendation of a friend. I checked it out of the library and flipped through first. It's underlined like crazy. I love that. I'm an underliner. I highlight. Not library books, because I try not to deface their property. Also, what is meaningful for me may not be for someone else. But it gives me joy to see what someone else has really dug into, and of course those bits were what I read first.

Here's what I read. "Commit yourself to a weekly artist's date, and then watch your killjoy side try to wriggle out of it."

My brain blinked, then immediately reminded me of something I haven't thought of in years. I had the opportunity to meet Bob Briner while I was in high school- got to sing for him- and he gave me a copy of his book Roaring Lambs.

It was probably just a thoughtful autograph, meant to personalize the experience for me and inspire. Or was it a charge?

I've been wriggling out. Using life as an excuse to not challenge my creative self. Slipping into my old, bad habit of fear and complacency. It's not who I'm meant to be. I am alive. Full of life. Expressive. I sing and dance. Make up crazy stories. These are my gifts, and I need to use them.

Listening to: Fathom Blue "Guides EP"

xo. kb.