I have three pieces, plus a bunch of large ink doodles, in a show that opens this coming Wednesday (if you are in the Oxford area, you should come!). I have never shown my art before, let alone put it up for sale. Even if nothing sells, I am so glad that I took a chance and submitted my art for consideration. OAC is run by some amazing people--they really make you feel loved and appreciated.
On Friday, I submitted my (hopefully, fingers crossed) last draft of my big essay for school. My advisor is amazing, and she pushed me (continues to push me) to the limit. No slacking here, but it turns out that I like the pressure of Needing To Impress. Why settle with meeting expectations when you could aim to exceed them? (Pardon me, my Hermione is showing...)
That's just the Big Stuff. The funny thing about all of this (and some motivational speaker out there is like "duh") is that the more I feel my work is appreciated, the harder I want to work to get better. Most nights in the past, I can safely say that "racing thoughts" weren't a part of my insomnia routine. Now they are, but in a nice way. I lay down and think about all the things I could be doing, but I think about it with anticipation and excitement rather than with dread,
This will certainly not last. But neither will the bad days, as this week has reminded me. And I wanted to write that down, because it's so easy to forget the good days when you're mired waist- (or neck-, or even just ankle-) deep in the dark ones.
