completion > consumption

and how my old habits helped me set this new goal

There are three unfinished needlepoint projects hidden away in a drawer in our loft. One of them has about 1/3 left. Another was started earlier in this summer, a byzantine stitch filling in the background at the top of a canvas. I’ve nearly finished the background of a bookmark, the white sections waiting to be filled.

And yet, I’m tempted to purchase a new canvas because it might just change my life.

Despite picking up the book daily as a stable base for my journal, I haven’t opened The Artist’s Way for nearly 2 months. The top corner of page 5 is still neatly folded down. I’m persisting through a lengthy novel set in the ancient Roman republic, and devouring Nancy Pelosi’s salaciously smart book.

Did I order my copy of

Caroline Chambers

’ cookbook yet? I’m fairly certain it’s the thing that will tame my meal prep (rather, the lack of meal prep).

There are 6 drafts in my Substack, many of them empty with just a title and some with a few bullet points in the draft area. That didn’t stop me from opening a new draft and start tapping these words.

My physical and digital spaces are veritable graveyards of things started with gusto and quickly forgotten or saved for an elusive right time. I firmly believe that I’m one planner/book/pair of jeans/pen/playlist away from transforming my life. The lines between these narratives blur in a consumptive, chaotic haze, and a comfortable one at that.

It’s become too comfortable.