The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day.
The book: The War of Art by Steven Pressfield
Tonight is not a night in which I feel up for battle. My fatigues are on, but they’re more decorative than anything. I feel like a fraud.
Maybe it’s because tonight, I said goodbye to a group of people whom I’ve grown to really admire. Our level 2 improv class had our show tonight. It’s there, and then poof! it’s gone. I think the end of something always evokes something in me, which I most often like to ignore. As much as I’m learning to embrace change, transience, and inevitable goodbyes, I always have to take a minute to mourn a passing.
Either way, tonight was a night of extreme joy, exhilaration, and emotion, but at the end of the night, I felt as if I needed to be in a blank room, alone, for one minute.
And the beautiful thing is, it passes, like everything else. Start the day anew.
Memory Moment Forty Four.
Next Week: Creative Confidence by Tom & David Kelley