Calculating: Time/Space Valuation
The Morkie and The Jorkie have been delivered to their grooming appointment this morning, confused looks all around, four morning routines interrupted but I wanted to make sure the ravenous hellions ate before they went to their day spa.
Anyhow.
(I've probably, certainly, covered the ground covered below before, but if I repeat myself here it's because a., I write these every day and repeats are bound to happen and b.,I haven't solved the issue to my mind's satisfaction (though it's been said that trying to please your brain is like trying to drink water through your ears – Alan Watts, I think) thus necessitating further pontification but fuck it this is my space.)
In spite of lofty ideals about thumbing my nose to afternoon artistic guilt, I'm back to working in the evenings, second block of the day, if for no other reason than I like it.
But there are other reasons the evenings and early mornings seem to work best for me: there's a more controlled safety from the external (read: family, whims of others) in my little corner with the huge desk in the back of the cold shop – a deeper cocooning within; my evening disconnect policy makes it a lot easier to keep my brain on target when I'm not thinking of the world's latest fuckery and/or analysis of said fuckery – which I try not to read in the first place; with all of the day's other tasks completed and processed, my desk is empty and ready for whatever I manage to hurl in ink or in dark mode type; and, by leaving the whole of the sun's time open, I've more time to recharge the creative engines, to grant things crafted in the morning time to percolate throughout the day before excision or inclusion in the evening.
That's been one of the biggest things I've learned: it wasn't so much a desire to work more – though that was certainly one of the two main priorities – that I was chasing, but the space, the freedom to not have to rush around, to not have to jam my priorities, my values into the day, consigning them to an afterthought status as I acceded my time to the wants and needs of others, if only as an investment in silence.
Learning, always, to value my time, my craft, my art – to value my values, to not let things outside my control dictate them; the ongoing lesson goes on.
