Here I go, wish me luck.

Somehow I have gotten in my head about writing these blogposts which is not great because I am already in my head about everything else. My husband is the most supportive human in the entire world and he just brought me a bag of fruit snacks. He thinks I am cute and laughs at my jokes and I think he will love me forever no matter what. It's pretty cool to have someone like that to do life with.  The other day he looked at me and said, "maybe you aren't ready to do Gastropod yet" and I think he is on to something. Part of me recognizes the value in the vulnerability and wants to connect to it right now in its rawness. But the other part of me really wants to take the time to honor this work and do it the way that it wants to be done. The content is too important to me to just be thrown together. While the work is not my baby (wise words from Elizabeth Gilbert's "Big Magic"), it is (in part) about my baby. The work is so tender and new, so fresh and squishy. It feels sacrilegious to have let so many people into this project so early on. I am not sure I gave space for the creative nurturing that is so vital. But alas, the work will live. It is resilient; It wants to be born. Now, how can I help it be born with what I have where I am? And how do I get what I need? I will have to get crafty and I will have to trust. Here I go, wish me luck.