JOURNALS

Friday kicked off with a mild anticipation I hadn’t felt in a while. The studio had been morose and quiet lately, partly due to the cold seeping in, reminding me how much I rely on being physically comfortable to stay productive. My first task was to organize my desk, a mission I’ve embarked on countless times but have yet to truly conquer.

With a birthday card printed and awaiting a handwritten touch from Kitty, I felt a gentle rush of nostalgia for simpler times when crafting something personal felt almost ceremonial. The plotter hummed a familiar tune as it worked on plotting some desk labels, a necessary but somewhat mundane part of the routine. As I watched, I pondered over “The Sea Howls from the West”, a project that’s both as elusive and inviting as the sea itself, waiting to see what materializes when I finally lay it out on paper.

I sneaked off to the warmth of home as soon as it became intolerable, my body demanding I stop depriving it of warmth. Back home, video editing took centre stage, headphones on, blanket draped over my shoulders, a makeshift cocoon of creativity. It wasn’t exciting, but it was productive in its own way.

Reflecting on the day while hungry for more from the week, I realized these colder, quieter studio days didn't have to mark a lull in my creativity. Instead, they are opportunities to sneak into an introspective space; perhaps a brief meditation might tip the scales toward peace and productivity? There's always tomorrow to continue plotting new territory, both in the literal and figurative sense.

Creativity may find roots in chaos, but it needs a splash of peace and a blanket's warmth to bloom. An unexpected revelation in this chilly escapade is that sometimes, brighter days follow the cloudiest weather, and a comfy spot can be as inspiring as the bustling studio.

So, here's to feeling creative without all the trimmings—and plotting on.