Ugh, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt that heavy malaise and unease when facing the work that needs to be done. I numb out, lose inspiration, get confused about where to begin, and slip into a strange amnesia where the whole day passes without my accomplishing anything important.
My muse avoids me when I am frozen. She only appears when I show up—at my desk to write, at the sewing machine, or with my watercolor paints spread before me.
It is my job to prove I am ready for her, and when I do, she never fails me.
Georgia
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