Apr. 29th, 2010

egypturnash: (Default)
Standing in the shower, pondering the hard-to-shake depression I've been under for the past month. I drifted to the realization that more and more I've been feeling like the world is some kind of dream, some kind of illusion. Some kind of shadow of much more complicated processes. And I realized that this is just feeding into my lethargy; if it's all a dream why bother doing anything? I'll just wake up and it'll be gone, someday.

Then the back of my brain served up this chorus:

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

(Genesis, Land Of Confusion)

Which is... what I keep telling myself, really. This is where I am, this is the story I'm in. How can I leave it a little more interesting, a little prettier, than it was when I came into it?

The scanner's cleared off; time to pick up the four or five pencilled pages of Absinthe that've been sitting around for a month and get them into Illustrator, time to take the page that's been sitting half-done on the desk and either tackle the one tough bit that remains, or just put it away for a while and draw some more pages. I'm way behind my hoped-for schedule for chapter two and I've been using that as another thing to mope about instead of just getting going.

I also need to turn over ICon in my head and figure out just what about it triggered this fall back into the grey pit...

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