I've been bouncing a lot of ideas around in my head here lately for the next post here, for my new joint project Blue Collar Prepping, for everything I've invested time in.
The entirety of all my creative projects in their volume has surprised me. Up until 20 months ago roughly, my creative abilities had so throughly decayed that I honestly thought I had lost them. I couldn't even write short stupid make no sense stories anymore. I was barely maintaining my crocheting and knitting.
The breakthrough happened late Feb or early March of 2012. My phone had run out of minutes and I was out of contact with everyone for almost a week. Had they all known what I was facing down in terms of inner demons that winter, they have may very well have shownup out of nowhere and I have to say, I wouldn't have had my breakthrough.
Those five-six days in an isolated cabin north of Knox where damn good for me. I was on the other side of the worst bout of depression I had ever had as it had hit, when I finally finished coming to terms with my rapes. That winter I had MindyCat thanks to my sis Rachel.
That last day was the best because I didn't have to fight with myself to get up. Just a warm, reluctant to move MindyCat. Something had finally given and it wasn't me. A few days later I was introduced to the man I love now.
And to quote a prior conversation, the hands were finally taped right. I had someone constant who wanted me to work through my shit with him. As it goes, things are coming back. I have two complete outlines of two stories. I have one story that is called Nuovaria, working title, but that's the name of the town at the center of the story. I have two other stories that I'm building.
Then there's the yarn work. That's been a happy constant, minus when I have my episodes.
One of the things that has always stuck with me in the past few years was two friends who I had managed to have some candid conversations with on some less than rough days.
J, the first one, I had worked with a few times at one of my numerous failed side jobs. J and I were talking about his family (which made for some fascinating stories in of themselves. Like the triplets being born on Halloween of a Blood Full Moon. @_0) Another acquaintance asked him why they had "dumb" phones and no cable/internet/tv. J had grinned a huge grin and said they just weren't important. Him and his wife did what they loved for a living. They loved being guides and teaching people about history. The kind that the fuckers of the politically correct bent are trying to erase from the history books. They worked as guides all year round at a variety of places. They loved it. And they didn't mind having a rather Spartan existence compared to many.
They had their priorities straight.
How did they check their emails?
Its called a library.
"If we followed what society told us was how things should be, we couldn't do what we loved."
The other was L. My sister and a good friend who was always doing her best to be patient with me. Looking back, I kick myself in the ass for not trying harder, but I digress. She always reminded me, that sweat-equatity was always worth more in the end.
Now I don't sweat normally, but the point stuck.
The last point to all of this came from a spirit guide. Who simply said "No job is too small or insigficant, to not be done with passion or beautifully." One of the few times, I have EVER gotten a straight answer from the Fae. :-/