Guilt and irritation mixed in equal parts - that's what I get when
too much time passes between one post and the next one. Guilt because of
a sense of failed duty, as if regular blogging and/or facebooking is a
real responsibility. Irritation because I know that's a delusion: I do
not have a duty to blog. Anything which must be done is always an
irritant. But what happens when something you freely choose to do slides
down the slippery slope to MUSTNESS? As it generally does.
Do you have a file or shelf or cupboard or trunk or shed filled with
things/projects which you began some time (days?months? years?) ago,
flushed with energy, zip and zoom, pencils and tools and ideas
sharpened, ready, willing and perfectly able to carry on and carry out?
The next question is: how many of these have morphed into Duties
(therefore irritants)? And how many are ongoing daily joys? Yes yes I
know I know. Nothing is entirely one thing or another, it's a mix,
sometimes duty, sometimes joy, and so on and on.
But what I
want is the zip and zoom without Duty poking its infuriating head in. I
want a foolproof recipe (designed for fools) for avoiding Duty whilst
still getting things done. So there.
One of quite a number of
things waiting on the shelf to be finished is my online autobio
. To get
in the zip/zoom mood I started looking at old photos. I have hundreds,
maybe thousands of photos - my whole life (with just a few gaps) in
photos. I don't know who took many of them, somebody must have, way back
Moi in Paris or Paris environs. I don't understand the feet in this photo, they're like hooves.
Somewhere by the sea in France, maybe Royan. I still have the same hairstyle now.
With my father in San Antonio, Paraguay.
In Los Angeles with my parents, Sacha and Blanche, and my older sister Anne.