I’m trying, well I’m always trying, to manage my time and force myself, even if I’m tired, to sit down when I come home from work and draw.
I’ll admit that for every time I am good and focused there are 3 times that I slip.
The TV is a great allie of mine in this respect. You can put any old shit on in the background and then keep your nose down and work at the paper.
The best stuff to have on is a cooking show or Friends. The cooking shows are soothing, require little effort of concentration. No story lines, no dialogue demanding attention, maybe except for Nigella’s sexual innuendoes and occasional poetic outbursts eulogizing some ingredient or the other.
Friends is really the most reliable one. (Lately, at least) I know the jokes to nearly every episode. I’ve watched them so many times over the last 10 years that I could go in for a script read and be word-perfect.
But books are really bad for managing the drawing. Even if it’s a book I’ve read 50 times over, by the time I’m right in the middle of it I can’t seem to be able to put it down. I can’t do anything until it’s done.
A new book is possibly the worst thing yet. It becomes all consuming.
Finished reading a book that had me tossing and turning all night, and then later, restless and distracted all day at work.
The start of the book wasn’t promising, or at least, I had this vague dread about the ending. The more I read the more the dread grew. I had this horrible feeling that there would be no good end for any characters I’d grown attached to or no bad end for the characters I hated, and would prefer to stop reading it.
Reading too many Barbara Cartland’s and Heyer’s does that to you. After awhile you only want the happy ending. The happy ending is a great comfort. Nothing bad can really happen if you know the plot by heart and the baddies always get their just deserts.
Cheating by reading the spoiler for the new book on Wikipedia was a constant temptation.
When I finally raced through it, raced through to the end, I felt wound up and shaken, like on a drug.
I had to walk around the flat for about 5 mins. I couldn’t sit down and concentrate. I’ve only just remembered I’ve left my dinner lying stone cold in the microwave. Clean forgot about it.
Does this happen to anyone else? Does a good book just destroy your peace of mind?
Or can you put it down and forget about it easily?
I wish I could.
It’s one minute to 11 pm and I haven’t made one new line on my drawing.
Now I have to go re-heat my fucking dinner. I bet the chicken will be like rubber.