It’s not going good, guys. It’s really not. For those uninitiated, bless you.
But if you’ve ever ventured to do The Artist’s Way (TAW), the 1992 self-help book by Julia Cameron, you know that the main goal is to help you reignite your creativity. There are two main tasks that we are required to complete every week, with additional tasks varying depending on your progress.
The main tasks are the Artist’s Date, which is a solo date you take your creative self on once a week (I bedazzled my journal one week, went to a local art gallery the next), and the Morning Pages. The Morning Pages are three pages, longhand. It’s basically a brain dump that’s supposed to occur the second you wake up in the morning.
I like my pages. I like doing them. I feel antsy now when I don’t do them. I’ve been addicted to them for a minute now. I love filling my journals up and flipping through the brain dumps I’ve jotted down. My Artist Dates have been a bit trickier. Julia actually called me out on this through the chapter this week, asking if all my artist was going to get to do was watch movies.
Okay, point taken.
It’s hard for me to put this concentrated time into my schedule. Not because my schedule’s jam-packed or anything, but scheduling time for just yourself? To play? And have it not be productivity-driven?
But now we’ve arrived at a critical juncture in the process. I would be curious to learn how many people who’ve attempted TAW dropped it entirely after going through what Julia calls “reading deprivation week.”
Now, as it is not 1992, this has been dubbed by many readers as “media deprivation week.”
Essentially, it’s a complete detox. No reading, social media, TV, movies, or anything of that sort. Julia has a list of things that she recommends you do instead.
Listen to music.
Make curtains.
Wash the dog.
Sort closets.
Pay bills.
Write old friends.
Repot some plants.
Mend.
Knit.
Cook.
Fix the bike.
Watercolor.
Rewire the lamp.
Paint the bedroom.
Rearrange the kitchen.
Workout.
Meditate.
Have friends to dinner.
Get the stereo working.
Sort bookshelves (a dangerous one!).
Go dancing.
She’s got my number because, after this list, she wrote:
“The nasty bottom line is this: sooner or later, if you are not reading, you will run out of work and be forced to play. You’ll light some incense or put on an old jazz record and paint a shelf turquoise, and then you will feel not just better but actually a little excited.”
Now I’m job searching, so theoretically I’m never out of work, cause there’s always something new to apply for. However, the sentiment remains. I’m addicted to my phone. I try not to be (lies). AppBlock is working overtime for me right now so I can even make an attempt at this challenge.
It’s hard. I’ve become so used to low-quality dopamine hits, one after the next, because there’s a guarantee of at least something. I think that when you work so hard for something and then don’t get what you hoped for out of it (job searching), it can be easier to look elsewhere. To let your head fill up with static so you can’t hear your own thoughts, especially if you think those thoughts aren’t going to be very nice to you.
I’ve gotten everything done on my to-do list.
I am prepped for my best friend Richnie’s wedding in a few weeks.
I’m registered for my next semester at grad school.
I took my tripod out of the box and set it up.
I filmed a couple of self-tapes.
I sent my other best friend Annie her birthday gift.
There are good effects. My Morning Pages have been flowing with precision. There are some days when I feel like my pages are cobbled together with scraps and a lot of duct tape. But right now they’re flowing. It’s a lot of me being like I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M FEELING.
But for the remainder of the day I feel off. Shaky. I’m more clear-headed, which makes sense cause days where I’ve done my pages after scrolling through TikTok, it’s felt like combing through sludge.
So more clear-headed. But sad? Like I want to curl into myself, instead of projecting outwards. It makes sense, I remind myself, but you do become aware of what comforts you, media-wise. Living without those comforts and dependencies feels isolating.
My imagination is sick, which is cool, and I can quote most movies I’ve seen at the drop of a hat, which is nice cause I’ve been watching a lot of them in my head lately. I hope this chapter brings the rewards Julia talked about. I’m trying.
But I am climbing the walls, friends. My mother was right; I am addicted to my phone. Let her take her victory lap. I’ll report back when I’m done with the week.
(I’m going to admit that I cheated today by looking at Taylor Swift’s engagement photos). <3