I tried and the first morning I was able to do the pages and I got out a very small short story, just to do something. I was proud of myself, but I'm not ashamed to have skipped the pages since then. Why? Because both mornings since then I woke up when I had to take care of my son, and was unable to write my morning pages because I was playing with my wonderful, laughing six-month old. Everything I do in life, I do for that little boy and his beautiful mother, whom I love with all my heart. I don't mind missing my pages for that. I can compensate, I believe, by starting to give myself the time at some point in each day to just do anything creative. I can write a poem, part of a short story, work on one of my novels (maybe I should work on one novel?), or draw a sketch or something in the room or my head.
I have two grandfathers in the hospital with the same condition for completely unrelated reasons at the same time. If that isn't the setup for a great dramatic piece, I don't know what is.
I really intended this blog to more more pieces of writing and art, than writing about my attempts at them. Not sure what I think about more "about" pieces, just yet.
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