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Art interruptis leaves something to be desired

This is not the normal Monday post. Normally, when I do write on Mondays, I try to write about walking/biking/moving. But everything is off kilter. Life is full. Very full. In my work-a-day persona, I am working full-time at the public library. In my do-gooder persona, I’m taking care of a nursing Momma Dog and her litter of 8 puppies. Daddy and I rescued her on Memorial Day (the pups were born that day, so they are a week old today). In my student persona, I’m taking one grad school class in library science. In my producer persona, I’m slowly but surely getting started on a long term project. All of this means that Bishop Bishop and my writing/art work in general have been languishing. I have started work, and just not had time to finish it.

But I must make room for this project and other projects. I am jonesing for words. I crave performance. I must be a making.

To illustrate the intensity of my craving, let me tell y’all about my Saturday. On Saturday, I wrote what was supposed to be a short response for class on Saturday. 200 to 300 was the suggested word count, though there was no limit. Mine was closer to 700 words, granted I did use some nice long block quotes, because when I write “academically” I want my reader to savor other people’s ideas the way I do. I spent all day on it.

I didn’t have to write so much. I nosed around other people’s posts. Most folks took the path of least resistance. But I didn’t see how I could answer the question in an interesting way, interesting to me as a writer and perhaps to others as readers, in so few words. So on Saturday mid-morning, I started writing. I took breaks to check on and watch Momma Dog and her pups. I took breaks for small household chores and to eat. But I kept writing. I worked on my writing until 8 pm. And the next day, after tending to Momma Dog and the pups, after doing some chores, I edited and fine tuned my writing.

I did not have to spend that much time on it. But I wanted to. I craved the work. I craved the words. I love performing. I love directing. I love producing. I love thinking and talking about performing and directing and producing. I love teaching performance. I love shooting and editing video. I love thinking up wacky conceptual installation art. But the art form that I crave most, the one with which I make the most hay, is writing.

I have been up since 6 this morning. My mornings are going to be like this until toward the end of July when the puppies will be old enough (8 weeks) to be given away. I am determined to use that time well. I will write. I will make art. I will give something to my desire.

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