Some days at the work station are dark, icy and full of gloom...

You’d imagine that if you love something hard enough, put in the hours, the work; that you’d finally get the hang of it and feel like you belong? Self worth’s a funny thing.

I remember even as a kid, sometimes a blank piece of paper was so crippling to me that I’d momentarily forget how to draw. In those moments, all I wanted to do was make something worthy... something perfect that everyone would love. At a very young age, we start attaching our worth to how we perform at the things we are good at/people think we are good at. We work hard... we get better, but in our pursuit of perfection, we lose context... and the blocks, the burnouts, the toxic self-doubt begin to take a toll. In those moments, it helps me to suspend expectation, fear, judgement, and just remember to PLAY!

Besides, if I can't play in my own playground, where's the fun in that?

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