Woke up, had breakfast sat down to write.
Finished that and now back to illustrating...all hyped, all enthusiastic and then suddenly: Nothing.
Maya's mind goes totally blank. Like I haven't a clue what I am doing and never painted a thing in my life.
I sit down, have a beverage, walk around the house, talk a little bit about my confused existence to the birds who are obviously bored with the mini lectures.
I go back to my drawing board. Sit. Stare. Think "come on Maya...you can do it...just pick that damn pencil up".
I attempt to draw a line..the line is blurred. The pencil needs sharpening and apparently so does my brain.
"Focus...hey it's not like you have forever...tick tock, tick tock..."
The self affirmation talks are not helping and I begin to panic a little.
What if I am not really an artist. What if I am just pretending to be one. What if I never get to see anything published because my work will be never good enough? What if I should get a proper job and stop being the black sheep of the family.
With all the "what if's" rhythmically getting down to heavy beat voodoo dance in my brain the panic builds into a major attack.
I try to breath and calmely figure out what the hell started all this in the first place.
Not an easy task.
Is it some sort of Karma thing? "Your an artist, you enjoy life as an artist so in order for there to be some kind of cosmic balance I the Universe have provided you with a masochistic spotaneous mechanism that will be triggered just when you think your on the right path and will produce mind blowing migraines"?
No...that can't be right.
Maybe it's just me? Maybe its fear?
Fear of what though?
Tick Tock- Tick Tock...
I need to get back to that drawing board...