I've been away for a week in Turkey, lazing around and doing nothing. I love the way life comes down to revolving around eating and sleeping when you're on holiday. It feels quite primitive and right - subsistence living. Once you've sorted those out, any other time you have is a bonus.
I purposely only took limited entertainments with me, because I wanted to start journalling and am amazingly good at wimping out and finding something better to do. I've been having long discussions with a friend about writing and how to write from the heart, something that she does amazingly well but I struggle with. It's to do with being brave, and writing despite your Inner Censor complaining that it's all trite rubbish.
I took The Artist's Way with me, which, despite the major drawback of being written by an American (they do get rather over-enthusiastic about things I find), did actually make some good points. It boils down to writing your Morning Pages (three pages of whatever comes into your head, which can be like a diary, or a rant, or just about anything, which serves to just Get You Writing) and having an Artist's Date with yourself once a week (which can range from going to the corner shop and buying some kid's stickers to mess about with to visiting a big gallery or going to a concert). After that there's lots of chapters about regaining your artistic confidence if you've lost it in some terrible psyche-crippling rejection incident. Luckily for me, all I've got to contend with is that pesky Censor.
There's another book which I was given for my birthday which has been a real revelation. So many of the published journals you see are so beautiful - artistic and finished - but this one, Spilling Open, is scratchy and messy in parts, but raw and honest and insightful. There are ink splots and glue marks where something has fallen off, and misspellings aplenty, but the author is so open it's impossible not to love it.
So, anyway, I'm journalling. I've done three pages, but it's a start. The next challenge is getting into a routine whereby I keep going! For me it would be an end of the day, sitting in bed sort of task, but what to do when The Man is there demanding attention? Perhaps I should just entertain him and then let him roll over and fall asleep, and spend 10mins quickly scribbling. *:)
The flat we're looking at buying does come with a large shed in the garden though. The (darling) Man has promised me I can have it for a craft room. I foresee some insulation and DIY-ery, some white paint and homemade curtains, and lots and lots of paper, paints and mess. What more does a girl need?