jalléCafe

Cave dweller emerges, momentarily

I suddenly realized today that if I don't write a post, I will have exceeded my longest blog gap of one month. Nothing doing!  I'm in a creative period - which makes me look suspiciously like a man in his cave a la Mars and Venus. But I'm not. I'm just in the flow.

Actually, I'm working on point #6 a la Austin Kleon (blog link referred by a Zurich friend who keeps me filled with remarkable ideas, a la near the end of point #1.  May have been the first thing in March that made smile from the inside).

Hopefully I will soon pass the comma, in The Secret.

My favorite is #9.  Even screaming creatives need a foundation on which to build.  

PS Then there is point #7, which startlingly reminded me why for years I said I would be extremely grateful to see something different outside my window over my first cup of coffee.  Turns out he was born within 30 miles of my hometown. Gotta love that karma.

How many days sans prosecco?

I'm a bit late reporting the results:  four days. Four. I made it a solid four of the seven days I said I would go without alcohol in mid-April.  Then I consciously decided to give up the quest.   Thing is, I wasn't committed. 

I enjoyed some pretty energetic conversations with colleagues and friends during those 96 hours: they either didn't see the point of it or they told me I needed to commit to 30 days if I wanted to really feel it. None of them would take a glass of wine or prosecco when I wasn't drinking. (So I guess social pressure works two ways...)

I really wasn't trying to change much.  Just see what I noticed and felt. That I did.

I felt about the same.  I have energy either way.  What I noticed more is that I genuinely enjoy a glass of wine with my meal. 

So what's to report about creativity, my question which started this whole experiment?  I noticed my energy seems to come more from the passion for doing. My body acts as the vehicle, not the spark.

And mostly in truth, I am kind of relieved that it is Ok to relax with a glass of prosecco or take a nice red wine with my meal. My Methodist roots turning European at last? Who knows.  It was only a small experiment.  And I'm not one to tempt lightening bolts from above in the Spring.