We are past the first new moon since the winter solstice and the consolidation of ideas is forming in the waves that beat the rhythmic soundtrack to these short winter days. Ideas are no longer so disparate and ephemeral so that I can feel a way forward, if only marginally, but she’s there and I’m learning not to squash that impulse these days, instead choosing to kindle her like a tiny fire while finding the courage to let go of some projects I’d begun to plant the seeds of but that will pull my energy in too many different directions this year. To let go is terrifying because as a freelancer I’m used to having too many projects on the go in order to make enough money to be able to live, so that if one project doesn’t work within the timeframe originally envisaged for whatever reason then I’d always still have enough work coming in to make a living. I had that support for part of last year in the form of an Arts Council Wales grant and it change my life. But now it’s back to the mild panic of figuring out how to make a living; even on the road with fewer overheads I have to eat and pay my share of the bills. When I get too hung up on this and the anxiety takes hold I ask myself: do I have what I need for today? For this week? For this month? If the answer is yes then I’m doing ok. It’s time to take a breath and focus on the writing. This is all I can do. I write & create – a fish navigating the undercurrent, recording moments & ideas with word & image.
2019 does not feel like a year of new beginnings – the wheels are now firmly in motion for life on the road. We might not know exactly where we are headed, living nomadic and in the moment steers a person away from that, but my heart tells me this is the right focus. A great unknown known lies ahead and some days, if I sit still enough, I can just about see her dragon tail flick before she disperses into a star-filled sky. That is all I need. To know that she exists, and she is magnificent.
Photo by Andy Garside. Taken over the New Year.