Overpowered by Funk
September 21, 2007 | permalink
I am having trouble, Gentle Readers, getting back in the habit of writing. I have mentioned how disruptive Fashion can be in the past; how it is, for all intents and purposes, non-time for those of us involved (much like the extra days and weeks that the ancients would insert into their calendars as festivals outside the normal flow of the year). This season was worse than others, as I had a gig right before and right after, which effectively made my normal two weeks of fashion nearly a month long. Nearly all of my routines and habits have been suspended, and I feel a little adrift today, as I try to resume living in real time (as opposed to the Fashion non-time).
Of course, all I really need to do to get back in the swing is to actually do the things I am used to doing. Tonight I will bake bread (for the first time in I can't remember how long... six weeks, at least, which is the longest its been since I started in earnest 20 months ago). I am writing this post (obviously), and it is flowing better than I feared it would. Certainly better than the two or three I have tried to write in the last few days. And I am back in the office, and have done some of the close-of-show paperwork that I need to do, instead of drifting aimlessly around my desk. It's an interesting sensation, though... kind of like coming off of a tour, or returning from Spoleto.
One notable absence of my post-Fashion, though, is my customary serious case of the blues, which is nice, to say the least. There is a touch of them, to be sure... there always is, after a big project. But that's really all it has been- a touch. It's a lot better this way, to actually be able to enjoy the feeling of a job well done (even if it was completely life-disrupting), instead of well, not.
Posted in Blogging & Fashion Week & Musings & WorkingI've Seen the Sun Set the Sea on Fire was the last entry.
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i used to work with a director who would always come to the final show, and look around with a sigh, pour two fingers of really expensive single malt scotch and say "it always hurts to let your babies go."
post-gig blues are the name of the game.