It’s been a rough winter.
Between the house falling apart (basement flooding, septic tank filling, sump pump breaking), one of our dogs dying, this site being hacked, the stomach flu, a cough that won’t die, the endless snow, and then rain, and mud, and cold – it’s just been hard.
So I’ve been keeping my head down. Working, focusing on money, focusing on making a living for my wife and the baby and myself, least of all. Just trying to connect every dot.
Deep down, there’s a fear in me that new art – whether it’s finishing Black Wing or getting started on Giles Corey – is beyond me, now. That there isn’t enough left over, once all my responsibilities are seen to, to create anything new. I can tell myself it’s happening, but day after day passes by and I’m no closer to starting.
Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s everything that’s happened. Maybe it’s just been a rough winter.