You know that point you get to in the days leading up to a haircut when you absolutely can’t bear the length of your fringe for a second longer? I currently have that feeling about life in general. Change is coming. Change is happening right now. I feel like one foot is already there, and the other is just itching to catch up. I’ve sold my big house. I’m in the process of buying a much smaller house. I am downsizing my life and trying to bring my overheads down to a level manageable enough to give up my full time day job and start taking more freelance and part times arts and community positions.
Right now things are just about as difficult as they’re going to get. (I hope). I’m still working full time. I’m temporarily homeless couch surfing between the homes of lots of very generous friends and family members. I am also working about seven million other freelance jobs –events, festivals, writing commissions and workshops- in the hope that someday very soon these jobs will form the basis of my income. It’s all a little bit scary. Also very exciting. I feel as if I’m approaching that point in my writing life where I either have to jump or start going stagnant. Every decision I make in the next few weeks will be processed through the cold hard filter of, “will this allow me more time to write?”
I’m not sure how long this period of transition is going to take but I am extremely thankful for all of you who’ve offered encouragement/spare beds/baked goods/red wine/motivational stories of other artists who gave up their day jobs and were almost instantaneously catapulted into incredible success/bits of freelance work. Also patience. A lot of patience. It’s all been noted. It’s all been very much appreciated. Can I have another few months of all of the above please? The times they are a changin’ but not quite as quickly as I’d like.