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This might seem ridiculous, but I am currently experiencing a small amount of panic. I know that it may be induced or exacerbated by insomnia. If I look back at previous times I can reassure myself it is temporary, part of the cycle. I bite it back to keep it small. I make a conscious effort to not let it win.
I have a year’s work ahead of me. A year of making, recording, playing, performing, exhibiting. For the first time ever, it is going to be paid. I sink myself into the luxury of this. I appreciate it more than words can say.
Nonetheless I feel that panic.

What next?

I told you it was ridiculous.
“Next” doesn’t need to turn up for months yet! I’ve never experienced “next” not turning up! This work grew from the last, that work grew from the work before. So why on earth do I feel this panic?

Because THIS work feels really good. This work feels like the best I’ve done. This feels real, coherent, integrated, totally me… This feels like work I breathe. It’s fitting… I struggle with some of the output, it challenges me, but it feels more right than anything up to this point.

So what if this is it?
The last thing I do that feels this way?

Hence the panic.

I post this here on Threads as it doesn’t really have anything specifically to do with the “nine women” project. It is a general observation of my working cycle… Part of the pattern of my practice. It’s more useful to have it here. So that when it happens next time… And the rational part of my brain tells me it will… I can refer to this and reassure myself out of the next bout of panic.

Get some sleep, Elena.


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