I don’t know about you, but my motivation (and resulting creativity) flows in waves. My boyfriend seems endlessly creative. He sees a story everywhere, and he’s very focused. I cannot tell you how much I wish that was the case for me. No, for me every given day is different, and, at times, I find
I just need to move. That much is clear after I once again spent the day moving my furniture. I did not find enlightenment. You know what else I didn’t find? My apartment is not a gigantic tetris board. Changing the angle of my furniture will not suddenly win me a prize or suddenly
I’m going though another of those periods that I like to refer to as the “white phase.” No, I’m not only eating white foods or wearing white clothing (please, that would last two seconds before I had food or debris stains everywhere). This is more of an “I-really-need-to-get-rid-of-all-my-old-stuff-and-start-over” kind of thought process. I’ve done this