|photo i took at last summer's writers' residency. it was so productive that it tempted me to abandon my principles for the day.|
i kind of told myself i wouldn't spend a lot of time on writing business (i.e. grant applications, proposals, etc.) vs. writing, the production of work.
all artists are doing it these days. you have to be a careerist as well as an artist to "make it" (whatever that means--for my purposes it means getting published, winning awards, getting gigs, jobs, residencies, and readings. usually for tiny amounts of money and recognition.)
and then you realize that "making it" means you don't have as much time as you need to "make it."
so, last year, i was not "making it" in either sense of the word, but was getting a ph.d instead. so in 2014 i decided to stop thinking overly much about my career and to instead think about work.
i don't know if this was a good decision.
today i fell off the wagon and applied for a writer's residency, and if i get it, i might have to reconsider this resolve. however, i do feel kind of sad and empty and insecure inside now. i seriously feel really depressed after pushing the "submit" button, not satisfied that i completed something.
and jealous of people who have "made" it,
and questioning my purpose, and choices, etc.
this bad feeling has affirmed my choice to focus away from this business stuff, to choose so carefully how i spend my time.
i have my own projects, my own work space, my own group of local artists and musicians to work with, and that's lucky and good. here and now.
a residency is a splendid thing. i've only done one, and i think i got a year's worth of work done in ten days, but getting them takes a lot of time, and they're very competitive, so your chances are slim.
so back to thinking about what i'm gonna do back in my d.i.y. head-space tomorrow.
report:::: today i:
**finished parts 3 and 4 of olson's call me ishmael (done with that book)
**revised tuesday's poem
**applied to hedgebrook