Deadlines and roses. My creative life is like planting a dozen rose bushes. I set deadlines or thorns for myself and sometimes the growing pains of getting there hurts. My gray matter is squeezed like a sponge over the dry ground around me. I soak up some more ideas and actions feel slow, they barely me an inch. Then, one day I look down at what I planted and there’s a hint of green. A bud. Not too much water, not too little. The end feels like waiting for a rainstorm after a long dry season. Some days I feel surrounded by desert with no oasis in sight. A lone desert rose. But when the petals push out in the morning and uncurl from their long sleep, it’s all worth the thorns along the way. When the growing season is over, I plant myself to repeat the cycle again.
Here is your prompt for the day. Deadlines and roses. Write for 5-10 minutes. Keep it raw and real. Share if you dare.
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