One of the things that I got really hung up on when I originally started keeping a daily diary was who I was writing too. Whenever I asked myself I would get very pseudo high art or lofty craft and try to create workarounds for why I wrote what I wrote. I became a gatekeeper of my own work.
I haven’t looked back on many of them yet. From what I remember I tried to be philosophical and muse on the wonders of what it meant to live because at the end of the day I had convinced myself that I couldn’t write what I wanted to. I had constrained myself to a specific criteria that I determined to be a successful post.
This would require a daily picture taken, edited, cropped, then titled as well as a daily post in the physical journal. From there I would type up what I had hand written, format it how I like, get the photo situated along with it, and then post.
But then I wouldn’t know what to write about because I would have expectations in place. I went in telling myself “this is going to be the project you’ll put a lot of work in,” but by prefacing the process with that reality meant it was an uphill battle from day one.
Now I feel kinda chill about it. I’m excited to pace myself this time around. I’ll set creative constraints, use the time to record thoughts, and spit it out to the world.
This time around I am ready and willing to let the creative process develop at its own speed while still using the space to explore my own creative ideas. However, this post is nearing 325 words which seems like a fair limit. So I think this is where I’ll call it.
Love you all, (mom, dad, sis, wife, daughter, cat)