Out of sorts.

This title is quite misleading.  I am far, far beyond being out of sorts.  But being out of sorts is at least part of it.  I get out of sorts for all kinds of reasons and in all types of ways.  This is a much more serious out-of-sorts than normal.  But we'll stick with this idea.  It's more than I am wont to share to begin with, honestly, as I am so extremely internal.

Anyway, I've had such experiences enough times before that I have some expectations of the processes I go through to...get through.

First, I must clean.  I have no choice.  It is the only thing I am able to do at first...but this has been complicated since at the moment I am not nearly as physically able as I usually am.  So it's frustrating, because I believe that this will make my cleaning urge last far longer than it would otherwise.  And, I might ultimately be left frustrated for months because it might just prove too much.  But I hope not, because getting through the cleaning stage is very essential.

Once I get through that urge, then it becomes much easier to get to other types of urges...like my canvas sitting over there, for instance.  It would be nice to get to that point.  I can proceed to creativity now still, but I really need to get that cleaning energy and drive out to be properly suited to the task.

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Random picture from my computer desk.  (I must specify desks because I have...five desks if you want to get technical.  And yet, still no roll-top!)

That is my kendama.  I love it.