Today, I want to create something beautiful. Yesterday, I celebrated the man who helped to create and form me. We went to dinner and drank margaritas and ate tacos and burritos and quesadillas with our hands. I gestured and laughed hard. I shoved aside the memories that hurt and focused on the stupid humor that united us. My father is far from perfect, and our parents are only human, but I appreciate the efforts he makes. We’re growing closer by respecting the relationship we have now as I get older. But in seeing him, I rerealized my desire to create – not necessarily a legacy nor an empire – but art, whether that’s the words I put on a page or paint I apply to a canvas.

So, today will be a day of creating. Not idly switching from tab to tab or refreshing social media passively or waiting for a reply, but to create and to live with an imperfect, beautiful spirit. For a little bit, I got too caught up in the end game. The results. The need for a tidy, ribbon-tied bouquet of creativity. I’m not a dozen roses with a silk ribbon keeping them together. I’m not a mixed bouquet with perfectly coordinated colors. I’m a cluster of chicory and dandelions. And in my last post, I talked about embracing my strange – this includes cherishing my imperfections.

Instead of feeling discouraged by my mistakes, I’m going to celebrate them.

I’m on chapter eleven of my newest book, I bought new canvases, and I’m ready to experiment with prose, with poetry, with stories, with words, with paint, stencils, art. My creativity knows no bounds, and today, I’m going to surrender to the joy of creativity.

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