It’s a deeply rainy day and I’m right in the middle of my brain, sorting through the archives. I have to sort through those archives in order to sort through my written archives – the lifetime of longhand notes and journals filled with the prompts and outlines of pretty much every creative project I’ve ever undertaken and journey along the way.
Is a very grand way of saying procrastination pile.
Children are wonderful procrastination killers. Mine dragged them all out of the cupboard yesterday, and with the clouds closing in I couldn’t argue the timing to finally sit down and deal with it.
So here I go.