a million miles an hour

I have that feeling again.
The butterfly on acid feeling.
Ick.

I feel extremely driven to generate some work. Paying work, work that makes my morning commute on a plane and me living out of a suitcase and sleeping in hotel.
Now, more than ever I am keenly aware that I have the talent and the ability to support myself with my art.
I have always been able to do that,(thank god) but pre-child, I just took a lackadaisical approach; I'd get a few jobs here and there, no rush, no worry.

Perhaps it feels different now, because I have a child and so I feel as if I have been removed from the art world for the last two years; and it's time for me to emerge from that black hole.
Maybe its because I'm in this art no mans land, and I'm desperate to be back among my own kind. I just know it's an uncomfortable feeling and one I either need to fix, (hence, get the hell out of dodge as soon as possible) or find a way to make peace with, hence get gigs all over and travel again, which is really what I LOVE.
No matter what, I need to get on the ball and
*get my poetry book published,
*finish the book on wakaneja
*find a publisher for my lakota children's' stories
*find a publisher for my coffee table photo book.

*get some contacts who will be all over my ass in NY; for either my writing or my photography, or ideally, BOTH.


The one thing I have seen these last two years is, there is a lot of stuff out there, some of it good and some of it, not so good. But I know how amazing my work is, and I have just got to figure out how to get it into the hands of the people who will see and push it. I can't afford to be lackadaisical anymore.


It feels good to still have this many irons in the fire, but I would like a bit more fluidity to it as well.

I am not making any sense right now, because my brain wont' stop firing.