It been one of those weeks. I sit down to work and something distracts me. I’m trying really hard to focus, but spring is in the air. The sun has been shinning brighter, the temperatures have been warmer, and I have been stuck within these 4 walls for so very long.

I’m 75 percent done with my book. Illustrations are complete. I have been working on touch ups in photoshop, adding text and working on the book’s layout. I should be ecstatic to sit in front of my computer with the knowledge that I am almost done. Yet this odd cloud sits over my head. I look out my window and then instead take my dog for an extra long walk. The following day I spend 3 hours working in the yard.

Have I lost my motivation, my inspiration?

I think its a combination of things.

The weather is changing. and being the hyper sensitive person that I am, I often change right along with it. The winters have always been my most productive time. Something about cuddling up at my desk with a hot cup of coffee while the snow falls on a cloudy day, just screams productivity to me. On the other hand, when the weather breaks often so does my flow, and the desire to play and explore outdoors becomes far more satisfying.

I gave myself a deadline of June, in hopes to enjoy the summer months without work hanging over my head. I’m still holding myself to this deadline.

Another possibly reason for my lack of interest…I’m just in a low creative mode. It happens. Some weeks I cant get myself to my desk fast enough, others its a chore to create.

And then it happens…the guilt. I beat myself up about it. I begin to feel detached because I have not posted to IG in over a week. I feel lazy and unworthy of my followers for not being able to keep up like other artists/authors do. Just this past month I signed up to do the 100day project. Each day you post an original artists piece. I figured it would be a great way to push myself.

I lasted 24 days.

then i got bored.

That’s the life of an ADHD er…. I start out strong but eventually loose interest. A 30 day commitment would have been much easier for me.

So here I sit once again at my desk, deciding what to do with my next free hour.

Most likely I will spend half of it finishing up with blog and the other half working out to get my dopamine rush.

There’s always tomorrow.

Thank Goodness….

My daughter has begun remote learning this week, as a result she has also taken over our three-season porch as her classroom. Being the nicest and sunniest room in the house, we decided it would be the perfect place for her to spend the day. The room is filled with beautiful tall windows that overlook our backyard. It’s quite peaceful actually, and it also has the ability to be heated, which will hopefully extend its use into the colder weather. I don’t mind her being home really. Its actually comforting. The two of us have been spending so much time together, that my home would feel rather empty without her. So, for now I get the best of both worlds- time to myself, and the reassurance that my daughter is learning in a safe environment. So, this afternoon I am sitting outside on my front steps, Dell in my lap and coffee by my side, hoping to find something inspiring to write about.

I always loved to write. As a child I spent hours filing journals with my young perspective on life. Equally I also loved to draw. Although, I didn’t begin to combine them together until my adult years. My daughter on the other hand has been writing and illustrating books since she was 5. She actually has a series called “Sparker Pup” that has been ongoing for 3 years . Her imagination just amazes me.  

I never took my writing seriously, mostly because my writing style is very personal.

I’ve also never been very good at expressing myself, I’m sure people close to me would disagree, as I am quite the talker (remember ADHD) What I mean to say is expressing my emotional side has never been an easy task. I guess many of us could say the same. However, for me it wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk, but more than I couldn’t organize my thoughts in a way that made accurate sense to how I was feeling. When I tried to put them into words, they always came out jumbled.

When my brain is filled with emotion, whether it be joy or sadness, I often feel an overwhelming need to express it somehow. Sometimes it’s through personal artwork, sometimes it’s through writing. I’m not sure if it’s a component of being ADHD, but my words often feel trapped inside my brain, unable to get out through traditional conversation, so I have to find other modes to release them.

 I remember in high school (before I was diagnosed) I would sit in English class unable to raise my hand, and it was utterly frustrating. I could read traditional literature as Shakespeare, and understand it at a level that would bring me to tears, but I was unable to express my knowledge of the literature in class. I use to always tell myself that I was smart, I knew I wasn’t unintelligent, I just couldn’t express the thoughts in my head accurately. I could see the words in my head, hear my response seamlessly, yet when it was my turn to answer, the words never flowed with the ease I was hoping for.

Writing for me has always been different, because I have the extra time to refine my thoughts before expressing them. I am also more uninhibited. I still have days when I feel stuck, when the thoughts in my head don’t entirely match what I’m trying to say; those are the times I have to remember the importance of taking a break. A nice walk or time with my daughter often does the trick.

My attention span (being ADHD) is also very short, as such my creativity tends to come in very urgent short bursts. So my blogs will always be fairly brief, as that is how my brain tends to like it. Get in and get out.

So I apologize if my posts seem to end abruptly.

…and with that I am off to check up on my daughter, until next time

Be well, Melanie Ann ..

9/10 grateful

Yesterday I had a wonderful visit with my father and nephew. My father and I have always had a close relationship. Growing up he was always my rock, my biggest supporter, my shoulder to cry on, and there for me no matter what. Unfortunately, we don’t live in the same state, and so with my busy family obligations and his retired lifestyle, our get togethers are far and few between. This has always made the time we do have together even more meaningful.

The older I become the more I see myself in my father, and the more I strive to be more like him. My father spent most of his life believing there were no limitations to what he could accomplish. He helped his father run a successful business, traveled, sailed and raced cars. He always expected the best and received it. Although my father is far from arrogant, on the contrary he is quite humble about his past. I grew up believing that diversity didn’t exist. My father treated everyone the same regardless of their race, religion or financial background. He always had and still has, a smile and a helpful hand for others. My father is my hero and always will be.

In my 20s my dream was to be an art teacher. I went back to college and studied and studied. The closest person to me at the time questioned my intentions and whether or not I was cut out for that type of career. However, it only made me more determined to prove him wrong. My father on the other hand, encouraged me to follow my heart. The day I received the results from the state teacher test, only to discover that I didn’t pass a portion of it, was devastating. I called my father crying ready to give up. His response without hesitation, “can you take it again, don’t give up.” He never passed judgment or made me feel inadequate, in fact he did quite the opposite. My father told me that he was PROUD of me! Proud! He explained, “you have a dream Mel, and you went back to school and studied hard for it. So what, if you didn’t pass this time around. Study and take it again, and if needed, again until you DO pass. But don’t let this discourage you from your goals!” That response and advice has stuck with me through my entire life. (I did pass the second time around and taught elementary school art for 10 wonderful years)

So today I am 46, mid life and starting over AGAIN. Altough I truly believe that you are only as old as you feel, and anytime is a good time to follow your dreams. My goal. My dream. Is to continue writing and illustrating quality children’s books.

I truly love to write, love to draw, and love educating children. My father’s advice resonates with me every time I feel low and doubt myself.

9/8 

Its 4:50 a.m. and my alarm is going off ten minutes earlier than usual. Its Tuesday, the day after a long weekend, and I want to get an earlier than usual start on the day. I stumble downstairs hoping not to wake my daughter and husband, push brew on my coffee pot and head into the bathroom. Soon after my cat is rubbing my leg for food. I love it when it’s still dark outside, I love the smell of mornings no matter what the temperature. I love the peace and quiet not only in my own home, but also the world out and around me. With coffee in one hand and cell phone in the other, I head out to my enclosed porch. This has become my “business and writing” area, as my desk is put aside only for art making.

Being an independent author who also works from home, can have its advantages. I can write and draw whenever the moment hits, everything is at my fingertips 24/7, and if I need a break- a dog walk or my basement gym is always at hand. However, being an author who works from home, can also have its disadvantages. For instance, I’m ADHD (oh did I mention that?), and along with that comes the possibility of many distractions.

So this morning I sit at my computer and begin the day as I do every day, checking in with my Amazon advertising consol. I analyze my stats, modify search terms and biddings, check on how many books were sold….and then hopefully move on. Next its onto my mailer account to check in with any new subscribers, a check in with my personal email, and then of course off to my social media accounts- FB and IG. The time that’s left over is now devoted to writing or working on illustrations. By 7:30 my home is awake and other responsibilities take precedent, leaving me with broken spurts throughout the day for my personal work

Unfortunately, this morning has moved along far too quickly and 7:30 is approaching, so I will end my chatter here. I hope you deceide to follow me on this journey I call “my life”

Until next time, be well- Melanie Ann