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It's Monday. The gig last night went very well, and I'm pleased with my work. (This is for the band I work with.) I think that the singer was also pleased with the performance, which means we can talk about trying for more gigs.

But now, I'm back at the freelancer's square one: no major projects in the works for either my paying-my-bills-job or my writing. The time away from work gave me a definite tabula rasa. I feel like I can ruminate on what I want Next, and make bold moves toward whatever that is. But that moment to inhale, to regroove, to dream, is also intimidating -- it's sometimes hard for me (a Virgo/horse/first-born) to feel comfortable with taking time to halt production and dream for a bit.

So I take my journal, my newest pen (a wedding gift from three dear friends), and a water bottle to the local cafe for a coffee and a chocolate croissant, and a little time to stare at the wall and dream my next adventure. Methinks it's time for a desires list.

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