'I am going to play, to experiment. I am going to write...'
The thing that emerged from this seeming raft of failed intentions was that the stuff that really needed doing got started,or finished. Instead of getting myself in a pickle about what really needed to be done first, I drifted. This sounds flaky, I know, but I gravitated towards the priorities and managed a pace that was both fruitful and enjoyable. I am busy, but not frantic.
I have managed one day of creative experimentation, only. This appears to be exactly what I needed in order to put some energy back into my work/life; I am happy just getting on with a current commission.
I suppose my conclusion is,the window I imagined I'd made in order to play, simply allowed for space to be in the moment. The usual engines of deadlines and external expectations are only an anaerobic burst to get over the line. My focus is on now, not next month, or next year.
If I have finally put an end to the painful myth of the suffering artist then I have really achieved something great in my own life. I am so lucky; I paint, I dance, I write. I appreciate and enjoy!