That’s how my mother used to describe that sensation, of a mother suddenly relieved from her duties, able to walk out the house, up the street, on her own. Sprouting wings. Of course, she had six children in eight years and clearly had few opportunities to sprout wings and remembers them vividly five decades later.
That’s how I feel today, only this time the baby is not a human baby, but a job baby.
Perhaps I am an orphan, but I usually find that whatever job I end up in becomes an all-consuming passion. To the point where you can no longer find yourself and you have ended up in a kind of endless flurry, the mouse on the wheel, round and round and round.
Life can seem to be an endless compromise between creative impulses and practical considerations.
All of my life I have wanted to write for a living. As I am 50 in two years’ time, it is fairly safe to conclude more than half of that life has already passed by with so far just one monograph “The Camera Obscura and Greenwich”
Thanks to the wonders of google even this modest offering is able to be found on the internet. But quite frankly, that’s not where I want my publishing legacy to end.
So I am delighted to announce that today I took another big stride towards a less committed work life; and that means carving out more of a space to write in.
Just want to let out a loud WOOPEE!
And there is Day 2 of 30 day blogging challenge. Who said I couldn’t be consistent?