The move-in.

Studio move-in week. It's extraordinary how much I've needed this, but rebuffed the thought (in spite of months of cranky journal pennings desperate for solitude and dreaming space). I've kept trying to force myself to make work in less-than-ideal conditions; to convince myself that I should be able to. Haven't given my artistic brain breathing room. There's still a measure of things to do in the studio to settle in, but already it feels like so much fresh oxygen.

I was also determined to keep momentum on my project this week and make a small gesture on it for even 1/2 hour each day no matter the chaos. Starting the week with a re-watch of Chris Marker's La Jetée (trying to recall a very specific kind of intimate, third-person voice); reading from Bella Li, Louise Glück, Burhan Sömnez. Tracing a path. Lightly drafting poetic fragments that I'll probably only lift a line or two from. Juxtaposing others to allow new meanings to emerge. Not worrying too much about how dreadful my brain-pen connection was. Letting the fatigue and preoccupation guide a much lighter touch.

And the work came through in dreams. In brief snatches of insight as we were building and setting up. I grabbed them as I went. Like a de-load week in exercise, dropping the intensity of focus, but letting the "adaptations" occur; the connective-tissue to be rebuilt, the cells renewed and the muscle fibres fortified — the subterranean signs to emerge.

By Friday I finally had time to start work in the space alone. To plan out the next months. To make some strong, clear decisions around the work, guided by what's been revealed as I've written, rearranged, let metabolise, moved.

So it's become clear now that this work will take two forms: a book — likely an artist's book — and a short, lyrical film. Honestly, had I known, I'd probably not have agreed at the outset to the volume of patience I've had to have to hold for this insight to gradually reveal itself, but to my own surprise I kept scratching around in spite of its (sometimes infuriating) opacity, mystery and slowness. And I'm very glad I did.

It's truly wild to show up again to work this excited.