July 01, 2001

There are boxes that need to be unpacked, furniture that has to be arranged, and grocery shopping that has to be done. But I’m making it wait because I have more important things to do today. Like my art.

When I decided to do writing full time, what I actually wanted to do was art full time. Writing would be the focus because I believe that’s where the majority of my talent lies and it’s the easiest thing for me to do. However, I’ve wanted to become more creative and artistically free, and so I decided, a little fearfully, to embrace art.

I’ve handed myself some weapons-a book, some paint, some furniture, some canvas, pencils, pens, and an imagination. Armed and (hopefully) dangerous, I’m going to start to create whatever I want.

Jumping into art, however, is a bit intimidating. As a person who can only draw stick figures, and whose apartment is in all shades of bland, I feel it’s an almost daunting task to create and come alive artistically. I want to be able to just jump into everything, have an apartment filled with finished art projects, and be at the top level of creation. I know, though, that I have to start somewhere, and that somewhere needs to be small.

So, the other day I transformed an old, beaten-up wooden chair into a stunning bright raspberry-coloured masterpiece. All I did was paint it one colour, but I felt proud because not only had I chosen such a bold colour, but because I had done something. Doing that one thing got my mind humming with more ideas.

Since then, I’ve been going to paint shops and getting paint chips to decide which colours will go on what walls in my apartment. Instead of buying art, I’ve decided to try to make some of my own, frame it, and hang it on my walls. And I’ve also decided to sign up for an art class, because I’m now only a couple of blocks away from the local Arts Centre. And I’m hoping that I’ll be able to volunteer there as well.

I’ve been a shadow artist for so long-always admiring others works and never feeling like I could be one of them. I have always been drawn to artists and their art, but I never embraced any of it because I felt that I wasn’t very good, and so what right did I have to try to be a part of it? I never attempted art because I thought that I should leave creating to “real artists.” I always failed before I tried, and that has bothered me for a very long time.

I think if you have a passion, a longing, or even just a tiny place in your heart for something, you should embrace it, even if it’s scary or you feel it’s out of your league. Just painting one chair, one simple chair made me feel better than any longing ever did.

It made me wonder why it took me so long to begin.

June 30, 2001

I’m excited, I’m thrilled, I’m living on the edge of anticipation. And not because I’ve got major publishing deals coming up, or because I’ve completed my first novel or money is overflowing. I am excited because I think I have gotten my head out of my ass.

I thought all the recent fear, confusion, restlessness & feeling of being overwhelmed was because I had chosen to write.

It wasn’t.

Writing, as a career was the only right choice I have made in a long time. I knew in my heart that was the right thing, and the entire world was opening up for me to also show me that this was the right decision. And, I had, in all honesty, accepted writing and wanted to learn and grow within it. At the same time I had chosen to write, all these other things started to happen in my life. And all these new things started to overload me, confuse me, and frustrate me. And rather than work them out or admit I couldn’t cope with it all 100%, I blamed everything on my writing career. I blamed everything on my new decision to do what I wanted to do. I took the easy way out.

Since I had blamed my writing for all of my negative emotions, I ended up not writing anything. I didn’t even want to write in my journal or jot a note down for the grocery. For the past two weeks, I’d been completely unproductive, but I wouldn’t admit to it. I’d just blame the situation, I’d blame my decision, I’d blame everything except myself, my actions and my decisions. And I started to hate myself for that, because I usually when I have a problem, I confront it and move on. But I wasn’t doing that; I just kept blaming my writing career instead.

By doing that, life was hard. I was always in a battle of some sort. Anais Nin once said, “The effort to live never wore one out as much as the effort not to.” All my excuses and all my attempts at fighting life had worn me out and paralysed me creatively.

Today, that changed. The past few days I had, without really knowing it, been surrendering to everything and owning up to what was really going on. I spent the last few days just accepting that I haven’t been writing, rather than trying to pretend I had been working hard at it. I stayed in bed if I had and told myself it was ok if I had to sleep or rest or think. If I needed five cups of tea I had it. If I had to feel pitiful I did. I went through all the emotions I’d been trying to bottle up. I didn’t fight anything. I let it all out.

Then I made a list of all the real issues going on right now in my life and then dealt with them one by one. That gave me a sense of accomplishment, closure and then freedom. There wasn’t anything left to hide behind, and the truth was told. I realised that writing wasn’t what I was afraid of, it was so many other things. Blaming writing was just the easy way of avoiding everything else.

I feel like this is the turning point I was looking for, the realisation I needed to make. My writing, my creativity, my art, will be different now. It will move forward without question.

About time.

June 26, 2001

Some people have said to me how fortunate I am to know what my passion is. They say to me that they would follow their calling if only they knew what it was. How lucky, they say, that I don’t have to figure that out.

I agree, but it wasn’t always that way. I had always wanted to be a writer. When I was younger I would do nothing but spend hours writing stories and English was always one of my best subjects. When I was 10, I knew I wanted to use my words to only showcase the wonder of the world around me and use my ability to influence people and empower them.

However, as I got older, I let go of writing. I never entertained the idea of really being a writer. I was raised to get a good job and become responsible – writing didn’t seem to be the way to do that.

Last year, I was going through the phase where I wanted to know what my calling was, as I kept hearing so many people talking about this. I wanted to find something I loved and figure out a way to turn it into a job. I wracked my brain over and over and couldn’t figure out what it was.

It wasn’t until February this year, on the plane back from Europe, that I discovered my want to write. Although I had been doing some small work on the Internet since 1997, I wanted to take it to a new level, because, I realised, writing was my passion.

It took me from then until April to get up the courage to do it.

If you don’t think you know what you’re here for, if you have no idea what moves you or stirs you, if you can’t figure out a job that you’ll love, chances are, you just haven’t removed yourself from your current life enough to see it.

Because I truly believe each of us knows what our passion is, and what life we really want to lead. The trick is just to let the life we want to lead, become the one we do lead.

June 25, 2001

I’ve been living moment to moment lately. Actually, let me rephrase that – I’ve been living hectic moment to hectic moment.

I’m moving in two weeks, in the meantime I’m packing like mad and then going crazy because I can’t find something. My husband has started school in the evenings again after being out for two years, and now I have to make that adjustment. I have overseas guests coming in two weeks. I have deadlines approaching for writing, I have cleaning to take care of, errands to run, household bills to catch up on. I’m writing in what little time I have but it doesn’t seem like I’m writing anything good – my brain seems too fried.

I feel like I’m so overloaded, so busy with “things” that all I want is some quiet, some time to myself, some time to discover art again. I feel like I need one week by myself somewhere on some kind of artist escape. I want to devote nothing but time to reading, to learning, to playing, tow writing. I want to spend a few days with some other artist just to connect so I won’t feel alone. I want some time away from reality, just to get myself grounded.

Wouldn’t that be wonderful.

June 17, 2001

In order to write I have to be busy and involved with life. Sitting silently in a tucked away corner brooding does not give me great material. I am, after all, a writer and not a rock star.

This past month has not let me down. I have been busy with one thing to deal with after another. I’m moving and have two weeks to pack up two years of living in this flat. I have writing to do, articles to submit. I have emails I have to respond to. I have cleaning that needs to be done and organising different things that have to happen. I have to sign up for an art class that I really want to take and then fit that class into my life somehow. And I’ve been trying to do it all at full steam. I am a writer, and I must write. I sometimes want to nap or sleep or take some much needed downtime, but I don’t. I feel like I could be writing or learning instead or wasting time away under the covers.

However, being so busy and trying to write like mad had taken it’s toll on me and last night I had just run out of steam.

It was only ten o’clock at night and I had literally just fallen into bed. The side of my face smooshed against my pillow, my right limbs hanging off the bed. I couldn’t move, my body was dead to the world.

However, my brain kept going. It kept thinking of a new idea, a new story, something new to write and share. It was working in a magical way when it should have been silent for sleep.

I debated if I should get up and turn on the computer and write all my ideas down. I tried to get up, but I couldn’t. I was so exhausted, my limbs were enjoying the sensation of just hanging and my smooshed face wanted nothing more than to remain being smooshed. But the thoughts kept coming.

“I’ll write it down tomorrow,” I thought. But then I thought I’d probably forget and that really, if I were a true writer of writers, I’d get up and write everything down. I argued with myself like this for another 10 minutes and then I declared I was going to get up and just write it all down.

When I got up, I looked at the clock and it was seven thirty in the morning. And of course, I had forgotten every idea that I had last night.

I knew I should have tried to write it down last night, I thought. I felt like I had failed by letting precious ideas fly out of my brain and not record any of them. But then I thought about it. If I’m doing nothing more than exhausting myself, how much quality will I really produce? I needed to re-energize myself, and sleep did that for me. It didn’t take away anything, it fed me.

Which is a good thing too. As soon as I surrendered to the fact that I will have to sleep every day and in fact, do not posses superhero energy, I was granted some more opportunities in writing and was contacted by even more amazing artist friends. I had the energy to respond to everyone, and I even had left over energy for new ideas.

June 13, 2001

A couple of weeks ago, a friend said to me, “So, are you getting a lot of rejection?” And I said, “No. I’m not trying hard enough right now.”

I have been holding back from really trying because I didn’t want anyone to tell me that my work that I might be proud of was nothing more than rubbish. I didn’t want anyone to say to me ‘how dare you quit your secure job just to live out some silly dream.’ I didn’t want to hear that I am not a writer.

Then I decided to not care so much. If doing what you love to do is the goal of finding a job, then I know that writing is the job for me. I can’t imagine anything else I’d rather do than create. And I figure that I have suffered far worse bruising than hearing, “I’m sorry, your article doesn’t fit with what we are currently looking for.”

Once I got over my fear of rejection, things started to open up. I started to do more writing and creating. I wasn’t so concerned with first draft perfection anymore. I began to feel a little freer.

And once that started to happen, I was able to reach out to others without a fear of their reactions. I had begun to contact artists and writers whose work had inspired me. I wanted to tell them thank you or bravo for work well done. And the amazing thing was, they all wrote back. They never wrote back negative things, they never told me to stop writing, and they never asked me who did I think I was stepping into their arena.

In fact, they all gave me encouragement. They all gave me inspiration. And they all gave me a sense of normalcy in that all this confusion, fear, self doubt, sense of being overwhelmed, insecurity, madness is perfectly normal.

I’ve never had any writer or artist friends before, and I’ve never known anyone who has gone down this path before. I was feeling so alone and that I must be some kind of fake because of all my insecurities or non-published works. I would never have imagined that people who have had artistic success could ever feel this way too. I was so naive that thinking that because I held admiration for them, that they must always have artistic success and not the same struggles that I have.

It was such a comfort to get encouragement back from others who are like me. It just seemed to calm any jitters I had or answer any questions I had felt about if this is the right thing to do. Their email, their encouragement, has meant more than anything I could ever put into words.

I think that is why documenting my journey on this website is so important to me. Because I want people to know that even when things are hard and frustrating, it’s ok. That if you can stick to your dream and ride out the rougher waves, you’ll get something wonderful back in return. That if you’re willing to try that perhaps that sometimes is enough.

But I think the most important thing I could share is that success comes in all different forms and not overnight. And the trick is to figure out when you have it, when to wait for it, and when to keep trying.

And when I’ve figured that out, I’ll let you know.

June 08, 2001

When I first started to write on the website, I wrote with enthusiasm and excitement. I felt I was moving forward. However, over the last few days I’ve been dreading having to report anything.

I feel like I just keep writing the same things over and over, or I’m up one day and completely flustered the next. I feel like if I don’t write some amazing accomplishment down, everyone will find out that in fact I should have remained in the office. My insecurities, my fears, and my lack of progress, my worry on how many times I’ve used the word “overwhelmed” have made me feel very small in terms of writing.

I’ve made such an open and honest declaration of living out a dream that I feel so responsible to do that now. Not just for me but for others who are afraid in some small way too. I want to prove that when your heart calls you, you have to listen. But how can I show that when I’m just as scared as anyone else?

I am starting from scratch here. For the past twenty years I have lived so linear and worked so hard to bury any creative feelings. Creativity was always seen as unproductive and selfish and so I shed away from it and have, in some regards, forgotten how to loosen up artistically. I don’t have any author friends, so I’m not sure how they write or what feelings they have and if mine are normal. I don’t know the process of writing, and so I’m unsure if I’m going about it right or wrong, or if there is such a thing.

Also I feel unproductive. At an office I could see the pay off of my work; collated copies, phone messages, emails returned, stacks of paper work completed and a very nice paycheque every two weeks. But with writing, how do you know? Is the only way to know that you’ve done something is to publish something? If it is, I’m in trouble.

When I met SARK the other night, I took that as some kind of sign that I was going in the right direction. After awhile I started to doubt it. I started to think what if she is kind to everyone like that, what if it was just polite talk, what if she was sincere and thinks I have potential, yet I don’t have anything to show. The more I thought about that event, the more I started to sink into negative feelings. I became less productive over the last few days. I think I was paralyzed by fear and self doubt.

I started to want some kind of concrete evidence, some kind of proof, that writing is what I should be doing. Instead of just believing it is, instead of just recognizing the feeling I get when I’m writing from my head to my toes, I wanted some kind of validation that I hadn’t made a mistake by quitting my corporate job. Of course, that’s silly, I thought. You don’t get proof just like that.

So this morning instead of writing, I decided to look at my website statistics page to see how people are finding me. I saw a link that I hadn’t seen before and so I clicked on it and it took me to a website that had nothing to do with my website at all. In fact, it was a horoscope site with a reading for Aquarius’s, which I am. I almost never read horoscopes because they’re just usually a lot of made up talk. Yet for some reason I ended up reading that one and it said:

Talk about a kick in the ass. As silly as it may seem it was the motivation that I needed. It has given me a little hope that all these emotions and fears that I have can be made useful.

I’ll keep working, I’ll keep typing or manually writing. I’ll continue to work on my mock up book and submit things to magazines. I’ll try to remember that right now, I need to go for progress and not perfection. That perhaps I can’t control the outcome or the when and where, but I can control the effort. And I will make one hell of an effort, because I believe in all of this.

June 07, 2001

I think when people hear of others living their dream, something inside them awakens. They start to have the ideas of their dream, and what can they do to achieve that. And that ripple effect is amazing.

However, I’m starting to find people who can some times trivialize the whole process. Some people think that because I’ve chosen to live my dream as a writer, things must be full of glitter and cloud nine moments.

For the most part, I must confess, it is. I am a lot happier now, I’m much more relaxed, my confidence is back, I’m more passionate and alive, and I don’t feel like I have some corporate entity sucking the life out of me. I feel like I am finally on the right track.

However, there have been major changes. For one, I gave up a very nice income which means fewer vacations, less disposable income and less savings. But there are things now that I need to do that are financial; get a small used laptop, do some legal work, get a larger flat so I can have some kind of office (this means more rent.)

Also, there I feel a lot of pressure to prove that what I’m doing is real and worthwhile. I feel pressure to become something amazing. Every day that I’m at home working, I wonder if it’s enough.

There’s a lot of uncertainty that comes along with my choice to be a writer, and that’s a very scary thing at times. I have the days where anything I write doesn’t seem good enough, and I ask myself why have I chosen this again?

At this point, I don’t regret making the choice at all. I feel that this is the right time in my life to do this, and something will come of it. That I’m sure of. But the road to getting there is hard.

At first, the work involved in living my dream scared me away from the attempt. To me, that was just straight pitiful. With the up’s there are the downs. As long as you’re realistic, determined and hard working, there is no reason that whatever you want cannot be achieved.

It just takes a little effort, and one hell of a lot of patience.

June 05, 2001

One of the steps of making my writing real is making it legal.

I have been spending the morning trying to find out how to become a legal writer with regards to taxation, copyright and trademarks. I have been trying to learn my rights and my responsibilities.

This is a little more than I anticipated – having this form to fill out and file and this fee to pay. It’s completely overwhelming with all the paperwork and money involved. I’m not even sure what the right steps to take are, or if I’m looking in the right direction.

All I want to do is write – not file forms all day.

I wish there was a website called “getting published 101″ where it contained all that I needed to know. And when you clicked on a link, a little man would ring you on the phone and declare, “Everything had been taken care of for you. Feel free to just write now!”

I have to do this though, I have to start comprehending things. I remember when I was around 15, I had written a story and submitted it to a magazine. I never heard from them, but 8 months later my story was in their magazine. However, the main characters name was changed, the city was changed and the authors name was changed. Other than that, it was my story word for word. I didn’t know how to protect myself that time, and this time, I want to be prepared.

I have found the following links:

• Copyright Information
• US Tax Information
• Publishing Law Centre