Over the weekend I wrote two comics scripts. This is not something a human body – at least my human body – is supposed to do. I had chunks of both of them pre-written or floating around in rough note form, but, still. Top to bottom and out the door. Yesterday I processed a stupid amount of work-related information, proofed a PDF, read most of a book sent on to me for a consideration to adapt, locked the casting of two characters on a tv show, wrote another couple of pages on a long series document. I’m permanently tired, I’m in a growing amount of pain, my email is piling up, I’m not posting anything anywhere but here and on my newsletter, most people probably think I’m dead and there’s nothing here but the work and the weather and music and the event streams on the big screen and the thinking.
I’m here to report that I’m in my happy place. You guys can have the rest of the world. I’m over it. I am in my place of peace.
You have a place of peace too. It only takes time and experimentation to find it. Think about doing that.