1hr Exercise - The Only Way

If you want to be a writer, or a photographer, or anything requiring creativity: get an abortion, or a nanny. Otherwise you'll never get anything done.

While you're at it, throw your television out the window. Release your pets into the wild. Donate all of your books to the public library so you can still read them later. Hide all of your clothes.

Put a microwave at your work space, and your work space near the bathroom, and a bed close to that. Get a comfortable chair, or learn to ignore your spine from your ass up. Stop paying your Internet bill.

Don't go out to bars, or movies, or dinner. Your mind would be preoccupied anyway, with words you'd use to describe the crowd, or photographs you'd wish you were taking, or strokes of color across a white space. Your friends and family will be there later, in between projects. And they'll be so proud; prouder than if you're always hanging around and not working your ass off. Find a mate who is similarly afflicted. That way they'll understand and you won't be distracted explaining yourself.

Agonize over commas, lighting levels, percentages of red, green, and blue. Analyze and re-analyze your creations until they've lost all meaning and you can't tell how you feel about them anymore. Flip flop between decisions a hundred times. Destroy huge chunks of your work only to recreate them again. Second guess yourself more times than you can count. Know somehow that it's all worth it.

Because that's the only way to do it. Right?