This past year has been a rough one for me creativity-wise. Lots of events to process and knowledge to become proficient at, with some re-evaluations thrown in for good measure.
I don't know the answer to the question my brother in-law poses in his song above. But some days I feel as if I am about to become the woman he speaks of. I realize that some of it is clinical depression, and I will often force myself to exercise that part of me, even if it's in a small and silly way, just to keep it moored to my soul. I would hate to lose my creative talents just because the demands of existence stole it from me.
The ironic thing is - I have some creative works that are all but finished for the past year and yet I can't just get myself to do the last few steps to finish them. My mom was like that, but that was normal for her. She told me once that she hated finishing projects because it was like they died and went away. I'm not that way, though. Unfinished projects to me are like survivors clinging to a life-raft, waiting to be rescue. It's usually in the finishing of them that I find peace.
I guess I have some rescuing to do. But first I need to get over this stomach virus...