itesser ink: progress, uncensored

Well, I paid for four more years of domain hosting, so that's decided. Still going back and forth on the site redesign/blog change.

"Are blogs dead?" is a question I've noticed here and there in the past months. A lot of the time it seems like this one is. Despite the long history, I don't post regularly right now, and I never post art anymore, so it's just navel-gazing with the occasional bit of Writing thrown in. And I don't read blogs either (she said with much chagrin). Not even the ones that I consider dear to me.

I had a really bad jag of emo-ness go on earlier this week, and as I howled over my failures, I asked Reagan when my failures would be "enough" and I could give up for good. He said four years.

Of course, all the lessons and methods he has for his art don't apply the same way to writing... or do they?

On the surface, the hustle is different with writing. People don't browse fiction on the internet the same way they browse art. And I'm supposed to (by my own decree) be dedicating this year to writing. Instead I'm BSing on the internet.

This hour and a half before bed I said I was going to get some words in, but I spent the first half hour cleaning house and the second half hour taking care of business.

Necessary evils, necessary evils.

*hangs up "under construction" sign and goes back to work*