Self doubt is a bitch.
We've all been there. The engine's are humming and creativity is flowing like cheap wine. You're drunk on the power of creating. You. Are. A. God.
Then someone you don't even know looks at you sideways Or maybe that one part of the story, the one edit, the blank page, comes to a screeching halt because... what?
Because we let the monster in. The wondering of 'Am I good enough?'. And its talons, small and almost cute at first, grow into life threatening thrashers.
You have to Sigourney Weaver that shit. Put on the kevlar, light the blowtorch, and blow it up. Remind yourself of who you are. Affirm your place.
Scott Adams says to write down your Big Hairy Audacious Goal 15 times each morning. Bake it into your DNA. Self-affirmation again and again and again. Be ruthless about the monsters you kill.
Listening To: Dunkirk soundtrack. Amaze-balls.
I wrote in some cool spots: The Woods, Boulevard Park in Bellingham, gets the nod.
Streak Count: 9 days.