Here I am, trying to write the first real post for this new little column, wandering how to say what I want to say. So let`s start talking about last weekend. I was alone in the new flat (well… new for us, I wouldn`t call it new… I think that a right word for it may be bohemien) that I share with my boyfrind.
I basically locked myself in the house to write.
Here`s the thing, it`s almost true. I did in fact lock myself in and I did write. But I also unleashed my compulsions, I think I watched more than 10 episodes of Nashville (a fine tv series, by the way), just to name one.
Anyway. It was, by all means, a productive weekend because I managed to correct many chapters of Grifo, my fantasy novel. Despite it, though, I kept blaming myself for not being focused enough, disciplined enough, passionate enough.
So now I`m wandering: is it a common trait of (young) writers/artists with stress control issues?
And if so: is there a way to stop accusing ourselves and enjoy our time a bit more?
And if so: should we? Or our very own blame and unhappiness is what keeps us going?
Ok, that`s way too dramatic, but still. Would I be so motivated without this little nasty voice in my head, constantly reminding me that I must write no matter what because otherwise… I will be locked into my head… and we don`t want that, do we?