I think that I will delete this blog, or at least shelve it (unpublish it or whatever happens when you temporarily disable the thing) ... I've been feeling like this for a long time now, as there isn't really any purpose to this blog anymore. I don't think anybody is reading it and if they are, they certainly aren't commenting. And therefore that's the reason I suppose.
So this is the last postie for a while or forever, we'll see how the wind blows.
I am devoting a lot more time to painting these past few weeks than I am to writing - even though I have the mantra, 'write something every day - just say it', posted on the wall above my laptop screen - it's not working for me though! Yeah, okay, I DO write but mostly unintelligible psychobabble in my car when I'm waiting outside schools to pick up kids to take home again. And when I get to the laptop to add to the story/stories that are saved there, I spend a couple of hours dabbling about, tidying up paragraphs, making projects for research and not much else. I might write a really good bit - maybe even a few thousand words of the good bit - but then I leave it alone and forget about it. It's not grabbing me.
That's not the case with painting. I can never just 'leave it alone to stew' kinda thing. It has to be finished, I have a definite goal, a vision, an emotion, there is something there that I 'want to get out' and I won't stop until I get it out. That's drive, that's passion, that's what is called a vocation. Writing is a sideline, always was and that's why I think I felt such a fraud when I was so very successful at it back in the Nineties. I really was - there was fame there, it was happening, I was getting 'a name', getting recognised. But it was like I was ashamed to say I was a writer, in case someone stood up and said, 'But hang on a bit, she only does it in her spare time, she's not the real deal, she's not a professional writer, where's her degree and why are you paying her for Chrissake?!' And that's why I quit it, that's why I stopped writing for Southern Africa's largest daily newspaper. It was as though I was so sure that someone was going to come along one day and call me out as a sham and I wouldn't know what to say in response because that's how I felt myself!