I read this and now I think I'm in love. Well, of crush anyway. In my eternal quest to fall in love with every hetrosexual male on the internet, I stumbled into Lost Pilgrim after slinking over fishboy>sarah>caribou [all fantastic sites] to linger at the site that I have dedicated my morning to.
Meanwhile - Photo Friday's theme is Clouds, which I couldn't photograph on Friday because my theme/email arrived after the sun set and now the sun is up but I haven't done it yet because I'm still in bed with the lostpilgrim *see above*. It's all kind of annoying because the actually *attraction* of such a thing as Photo Friday is that it is done and posted ON Friday. I'm not much interested in slurking around for a week to find THE perfect picture - hell, anyone can do *that*.
You have to have deadlines people. Like 26 Things - a list + a deadline = the fun of PRESSURE and the highs and lows of any project whether it be 30 days or 24 hours or the next 30 minutes. Not this rambling sort of <Voice ="Neil from the Young Ones">oh anytime you like in the next week it's okay</Voice>.
I want the anxious wait for the start, the mental preperation. The thrill as the project starts and the rush as the planning and brainstorming take place and I realise I can take hold of this beautiful beast-of-an-idea and make it my own. The adrenaline induced frantic eye movements looking for the perfect shot/scene/frame/metaphor. The sharp pang of panic when I forgot what I am doing and wander off to read some of the interweb or colour-in some pictures and now I'm behind.
The feverish self flagellation when I remember how much I hate deadline driven projects because they show up all my faults and shortcomings but not this one, not THIS time. With a renewed sense of purpose and drive but with the same sack full of tattered talents and skanky skills the task still seems feasible, if only I don't eat/sleep/do-any-thing-else between now and when it's due.
Cresting the moment of deciding to present what I have because, quite frankly, it's all I've got and I'm exhausted and I suck and no one cares anyway and my house is a mess and my batteries are almost flat and I vow I will never, ever, do this again, ever - I post my picture/submit my painting/send my project and fall into bed hoping for sleep perchance to dream to find I've consummed so much coffee and I'm so depressed I can't actually find that place where my mind shuts down and stores and reorders my thoughts and memories and lessons-learned and I lay in my bed with the soundtrack of "Why You Suck You Stupid Bitch: The Musical" playing over and over and over.
After a while the memories fade to soften themselves into nostalgia. I eventurally look at my work with a fondness and an uneasy sense of something else I can't quite remember so I forget. I forget. And all I remember when my photoFriday email/sh1ft.org newsletter/nanowrimo prompt comes by is "oh yeh, I LOVE doing these things!