Maturity

I'm about to head to Spokane (well Cheney) for the holidays. Yes, ten days of "relaxation." I put quotes around this because relaxation in Cheney really means boredom after so long. However, I am hoping to use this opportunity of little to do and no access to friends as prime time to do something I have been neglecting for far too long: writing.

I have a lot of excuses for why I haven't been writing. They are, in no particular order: writer's block, too much work, not the right environment, too much work, no enough ideas, too much work. Convinced?

No? Well good, you shouldn't be. Regardless, over the past few months (since the last time I've posted), I've gotten very little to no writing done. I have ideas, inspirations I could call them but nothing much has come of it. A poem here or there, a lot of journaling but that's about it. So it is time...ahem...as I have said before...to sit down and just do the writing.

I have this notion, this fact really, that writers set aside time to write daily. When I speak of this idea, I always manage to stammer out something about how I am a writer of inspiration and sitting down to write doesn't work for me if I don't have any inspiration. At this point, I'm going to call bullshit on myself. I think what really kept me from setting and keeping a schedule is immaturity. It is time I grow up and remember, it doesn't matter what I sit down and write every day, I just need to do it.

Yes, I do fancy myself a writer and an actor. A theatre artist really. But I still have a lot of growing in my art to do. I'm forcing myself to use this time at my parent's house as an opportunity not to be really bored, but to be really smart. I'm going to enjoy the holiday and get back on the horse so to say. Or the keyboard.

I'm gonna write.

P.S. A reading of that previously completed one-act to come after the new year. Probably in my apartment. I'll keep you updated.