Creativity is a funny thing.
Consuming,
fleeting,
raw, produced, demanding,
energizing,
aloof,
restorative, draining.
Nearly a year ago I was startled to find myself unable - unwilling even - to work on anything new. My creative vision that had once been so abundant, had gone. It disappeared gradually; somewhere between the empty excuses, misguided priorities, and ill-fated comparisons.
Luckily, my friends and family were insistent that I not give it up permanently. It was recently when one of my friends basically shoved this $30 thrift find at me (and insist with friendly, though very real, threats) that I reunited with creativity in a creepy basement.
I dusted off the old brushes, cranked up the Charles Bradley, and sincerely hoped this didn't turn out to be a complete failure.
Meet Zora.
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| Pages from a 1962 copy of Structure and Form: Modern Architecture. Huzzah for $1 book bin finds. |
Playing in the background:
- Big Little Lies soundtrack
- Harry Styles' album
