I often say:

I have many projects up my sleeve.

It’s true.

At any given moment, I am shuffling between a handful of projects.

Not counting the many I have tidied up and shelved or as I like to think about the ‘they are on the back burner simmering.’
I had heard that this was a thing, but I hadn’t truly figured out how to embrace it until I realized I was doing it.

For any writer who dabbles in more than just one medium and one main project, there are many projects in various states.

Some are whims that grow long legs and start running off without me leaving me winded trying to keep up.

These are the ones you often end up seeing relatively as quick as they arrive into existence.
They are concise and already complete ideas that had been quietly processed for a long time without knowing it. Upon arrival, they land all ready to go and quickly set off.
These are fun, quick and often light-hearted meaningful ones.
Some are deep questions of the soul that slowly emerge and grow, allowing me to work on it over a long period.
These are the therapy-like ones where I often find myself weeping over them in both joy and sorrow. They are my teachers, and sometimes I think they exist for only just that, although don’t tell them I said that, for they would be sorely wounded and make a fuss.
Some are riveting and full worlds that grow legs and start running but are not marathoners and not yet sure about which way they are going.
These are the long-suffering heartbeat ones where I tend to overtime and keep hoping they will reveal something in which I may leverage it better.

No matter which one they tend to be, they exist and are in constant motion around and within me.

Projects, stories, concepts, documentaries, commentaries, essays, plays, they whir around me speaking about themselves and keeping them in their place is a bit of a job. I often find that I do more organizing of them than I’d like.

I tell them to sit still, and I’ll be back just as soon as I finish this application- and sure enough, one of them has wriggled free and having a complete meltdown because I hadn’t added this new revelation stumbled upon only yesterday.
Impatient toddlers, they all seem to me at times.

Yet,

this is the way of a writer of many mediums.

Sorting through the projects, adding a little bit here, a little bit there, sending one-off here and one-off there and realizing that one really does need a new wardrobe if it’s really to be taken out in public.

However you see your writing life and your ways of going about it all, I hope you see it.

It is a great and beautiful world full of emotions that I’d like to think we writers are the only ones who can honestly know it.

As 2020 came to a close I began to feel a desire to well up within me.

She was whispering to me from a drawer.

I put on music to drown her out. I tried distracting myself with meetings, with the trappings of Christmas and the approaching new year to ignore her.

I caught myself thinking about the last time we sat across from each other.

Humilation, tears, disappointment and misunderstandings.

A gulf between us.

The louder I tried to turn up my world, the more persistent she has become from her spot in that filing cabinet drawer.

This is the way it is with projects and their creator. They don’t just come easily. They are an investment and sometimes they mean more to you than you’d like to admit.

Like an ex-lover who proved to be someone who couldn’t stick around when times got tough. Who just couldn’t explain themselves honestly and true enough for the world or you to understand them. They disappeared in the fog and stayed there while you floundered trying to fill a void.

It’s a bit like this for me and her.

We needed each other and then when I thought it was our time, she made herself scarce.

So I slipped her into a big fat file folder where she has been sitting and almost busting out of and for some reason she is choosing now to make noise about it.

This year, of 2021 to raise her voice and try to come back to me, in some strange and unknown format.

I am not sure whether I should serve tea when we meet again, or perhaps I should just uncork a wine bottle and pretend to have forgotten the glasses. See how she manages that.

Should I play Kanye West rap or Taylor Swift’s folklore?

Should I wear a revenge dress like Diana or just show up in sweats like Meredith Grey?

You might laugh at this. You might even call me fickle, but the truth is,

she was something. She was my proof that I understood the pulse of the creative world and to meet with her again, to look her in the eyes, means I have to open myself up to possibly see that she isn’t as perfect as I have remembered or that maybe we weren’t supposed to go the distance and that is that.

But there she is, making a fuss about being relegated to a file in a cabinet.

So off I go…

I think I’ll wear my oversized sweater and let my hair down.

As the Autumn has progressed I am finding the pulse of truth become known to me.

It’s not a new concept by any means.

But it is a practice. A consistency. Meditation in the form of trust and gut.

It’s showing up to serve the work to move it forward.

Moving a project forward can feel invigorating.
It can feel like one is wonder woman and literally saving the day.

It can also feel like monotony.
The dirty work.
The scrubbing the floor just to have millions of feet walk all over it again.

And there it is. That pulse. It is steady and true.

Although one may feel that there is nothing to show for what one did to ‘move it forward’ today. There is an accumulation of days that can bring ‘it’ to the light.

It is something that only tenacity, grace and a bit of a stubborn nature can produce.

May we not discredit our work, no matter how big or how small.
How much the paycheck is or isn’t.
How many likes we receive or don’t.
How loud the applause or how quiet.

May we be more focused on serving the work before us and moving it forward to its next right place, even just a smidge more.

Eventually, we’ll look behind us and realize we climbed a mountain and despite the results and how many people saw,

we did it.

This Summer I am minimizing distractions and focusing in on two specific projects.  This means a lot of time at my desk and a lot of time learning formatting programs and editing skills.  

Both of these projects are women centred and focus on highlighting women through story, history and project creation.

I will be updating on my progress here and starting in July, monthly newsletters.

I am aiming to develop two specific pieces that bring multi-dimensional women to the spotlight and in one project specifically, to give a voice to how personality stereotypes limit our understanding of ourselves and others.  

Women supporting women isn't just a hashtag, it's a force to be reckoned with and I hope that as I bring life to these two pieces I will be able to align this work and myself with women who will breathe life into it and me.  

Heres to the ones who dream.  

"WRITERS ARE DANGEROUS PEOPLE
Never take a writer for granted.
They are snipers armed with words.
They know how to aim with sentences.
How to fire with paragraphs, and
how to immortalize their kills in verse."
- Nakita Gill

I am heading into a summer of writing and spending a lot of time in here.  

Currently, I am getting it ready so that my focus can be maintained in this space.  Minimizing clutter, reviewing notes and making sure that even the candle I light is exactly the type of scent that will inspire me.  

These may seem like simple silly things, but I am an atmospheric writer.  I write best when I set the stage.  Past posters of two of my plays above me to remind me that I have done a thing or two, pictures of two women who have seen me through the worst and the best, an ampersand ornamental to remind me that there is always more to come and a fluffy mat for my bare feet in the early morning or evening.

For my deep and fun loving toddler, I have an Ikea table and chairs, with various creative elements and toys at her disposal.  The IKEA cart with various supplies 'crayons, play dough, paints, colouring books, etc).  Daily we come in here and practice what it means to give your creative self a ponder.  

Next time, I will show you my desk at a closer look when I have the appropriate camera to capture it.  For now, this will do. 

Over the past month I made the whimsical decision to try to capture my words on Instagram with these little square note papers I have in my desk.  In truth, I don't have many left and maybe that is what makes them precious.  Over the past six years I have been using them around the house to write down words I have heard or read that motivate, inspire, empower and are insightful to me.

These squares are different.  These are my own words.  Maybe it was the fact that one of my dearest suggested I should start capturing my words in this way, or maybe it was that not many of these white squares are left.  Either way... it's turned into a project of sorts and I am proud of it.
Each square has a reason for being written and they insight joy and light in me.

WORDS on WHITE has evolved and continues to evolve and I wanted to share it with you this week.

What will the next square be?