This morning I found myself trying to suppress the urge to just call in to work and just go home to be creative. On my walk from the MAX station to my office I can pass by two different stores that sell art of local artists, and at least one artsy clothing store depending on the path I choose to walk the eight or so blocks. Having a full time job I find that I often don’t have time to do the things I really want to do: write a novel, make jewelry, sew something or dig in the dirt of my garden. With that full time job comes paid time off, luckily, but there are only so many days that I can take off to balance with the work week.
Many other creative types understand the need for creative time, the desire to have a space dedicated to the goal of making something. For me, if I go too long with out indulging my urge to create to satisfaction I end up where I am now: longing to run away somewhere so I can do just that.
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