This week, I’ve spent most of my days sitting in various libraries and cafes at ANU (Australian National University) in Canberra, writing madly, pretending I’m a student there. I haven’t managed to finish the essay I’m working on, but I’ve got a writer’s first draft (that is, not something I’d be comfortable having someone else read, but something that forms some kind of whole, and that I can continue to work on). This afternoon I lounged on the couch in my parents’ back room, reading one of the many books I’m trying to absorb as part of my research for this essay, and for the bigger project I’ve tentatively started work on.
I had a few moments today where I really felt excited about what I was doing. I could almost feel the cogs in my brain turning, working things out, and I thought, ‘This is why I do this.’
I need moments like this more often.